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  “Scene’s over. Now we’re on to more important things.” I tried to kiss her again, but she avoided my lips.

  Pushing at my chest, she said, “I think that’s enough PDA for now.”

  I didn’t want to let her go. But I had to. She slid her leg off my lap and sat back into her seat. She ran her fingers through her hair. “That was a lot better than the first time.”

  I cleared my throat. I had to get a grip. But all I wanted to do was kiss her some more, and take her someplace where I could fuck her properly. “So you forgive me?”

  She smiled a little. “Yes. But I think you only did half of me.”

  “The left side. Does each side feel different?” I asked.

  She sat back as if considering it. “Yes—my left side is alive! My right side feels like it isn’t even there. It’s dead, gone. But all my nerves are tingling on the left.”

  “You wanted to know why people do this kinky stuff. That feeling is why.”

  Slowly she nodded, as if finally understanding. “Lola likes to feel alive. She hates it when things are boring.”

  “Kink isn’t boring, that’s for sure. It can be anything you make it.”

  “Maybe. But Lola doesn’t have the best judgment.”

  I felt the wall going up between us again, as she returned to her concerns. It seemed like nothing could come between this woman and her sister. And nothing would make much of an impression on her until she could stop worrying about Lola.

  “Why don’t I help you?” I offered. “I can go with you the next time. And get you a better disguise than that. I can find out more about this guy, Martin, for you.”

  Her eyes lit up. “Would you do that? I know you’re really busy with your work. Don’t you travel a lot? ”

  It washed over me like an icy flood. I recognized her suggestive tone, alluding to my jet-set, wealthy lifestyle.

  I hated it.

  I had almost managed to forget that she had rejected me until she found out that I was “rich and successful.” She never would have done anything with me, now or at the Chamber, if she didn’t think I was a wealthy executive.

  My raging hard-on was joined by real rage, making me want to take her and shake her out of her superficial mind. I wanted to force her to see who I really was, and make her want me with just as much panting, breathless need as she did now. Even though I was just a baggage handler.

  She must have seen my hardened expression because she drew back, not understanding. “If it’s too much trouble…”

  “No,” I forced myself to say. “I’ll help you. It’s the least I can do.”

  “Transcendence will be at a park on Sunday.”

  “I’ll be in Atlanta,” I said, randomly picking a city. Actually, I was on the day shift for the next three days. “Let’s look at next weekend when I get back.”

  She looked a little hurt by my sudden cool tone. She probably thought I was being condescending. It was one of the easiest ways to make a beautiful woman do anything for you—treat her like she was nothing special. I had perfected the art, along with my rich playboy persona of “Victor.” It was a rush every time a greedy little slut went to bed with me because she wanted something from me—and they all wanted something, whether it was clothes, money or a good husband who could support them in style. They thought they were taking something from me, so why not take something from them?

  I stayed in the role, taking Sierra’s phone number so I could connect with her later. Then looking at my watch as if I had other places to go, people to see, I got up. “I can help you get a cab.”

  As we walked through the club, my hand went to her bare back, exposed by the halter top. I had to touch her one more time. I could feel her shiver slightly.

  Before she got into the cab, I gave her a thorough, but quick kiss. Enough to top me off. But not enough to let her feel my desire again. I wasn’t going to give her that satisfaction.

  She looked confused and still turned on. It was a lot to process for a newbie. I felt awful that my first scene in the Chamber with her had been so harsh. But I couldn’t lie to myself and say it didn’t still excite me to remember how close I had come to losing it with her our first time, and how she gave herself over to me completely. In one minute flat.

  She had seen my worst side, but she had come back for more.

  As I watched the cab pull away, I was so whipped up I couldn’t see straight. I started walking home real fast. I had the uncomfortable feeling that my dick would be hard every step of the way, until I could get home and jack off to the thought of her writhing under me as I took her. For tonight, the fantasy would have to be enough.

  Chapter 7

  Sierra

  I was lost in a haze of lust for the entire cab ride home. Kissing Victor was different than kissing other men. He savored his kisses with me. It didn’t feel like a means to the end of rushing me into sex. The way he looked at me, then leaned in to fervently kiss me again… it was deeper than lust, overwhelming my senses.

  I considered asking the cabby drop me off at the subway station so I wouldn’t have to pay a huge fare, but my outfit was a little too sexy to be riding around alone at night on the subway. Or walking home through the streets from the station.

  So I lay back in luxury, wallowing in the memory of Victor touching me, like it was seared into my skin. It was so erotic, and he hadn’t even tried to grope me as most men would have. Yet I had felt how turned on he was.

  By the time I let myself into my darkened apartment, I was wondering why he didn’t ask me to go home with him.

  Not that I would have. But why didn’t he ask, at least?

  As my post-euphoric state wore off, I started feeling more confused. It was hard to reconcile the Victor of tonight with last week’s Victor. I did understand a little better the assumptions he had made about me at the Chamber. Still, it was seriously twisted. For both of us. I hated myself for being secretly excited by it.

  Under the strange bond formed by that, tonight had happened.

  So here I was roaming aimlessly around my empty apartment, while he was probably off tickling some other girl’s fancy. Maybe he had another date lined up for his Friday night. I was just his happy hour treat. A man like Victor had to have other girls waiting for his call.

  That was probably why he had gone cold once I stopped him. He wasn’t used to being denied by a woman.

  I wondered if I would hear from him again. Now that things had been smoothed over from the first time, he might not see any reason to mess around with me anymore.

  But he had offered to help me after I made him stop kissing me.

  Around and around I went, coming to no conclusions. I had no basis for comparison for this sort of thing. I was too inexperienced with the games men played, and the last time I had been ensnared by a player, I had come out the worse for it.

  ...

  Once again, my sister was gone all night. I worked the early shift on Saturday, and found myself chatting with shoppers a lot more than usual. And I hung out in the break room with the other girls during lunch instead of going to eat in Bryant Park or on the library steps. Usually I loved to watch the world pass by, enjoying the city. But not today.

  I was lonely. A girl could only study so much. Those nightly hours without anyone to talk to were getting to me. For weeks Lola had been staying away more and more, until she rarely came home.

  Facing another empty Saturday night with nothing to do, I called my mom. Usually a text once a month was all she wanted, but mom was chatty tonight because my brother Mark was getting married and his fiancé got along well with mom. I had only met her once, but she seemed nice enough.

  I wished I had girlfriends I could hang out with, but I had always hung out with Lola. As a kid, my best friend, Amy, had lived next door. Amy’s mom had fed me and Lola, and done some of the things a mom would do if our mom had been around more, like putting on band-aids and helping with homework.

  But when my mom and dad got a divorce, th
at house and that world had disappeared. My brothers moved in with their dad, while we lived in a series of small, stifling apartments as mom struggled to make ends meet. Lola and I needed each other to get through school—we went to several overcrowded, rough schools where the fights got physical far too often. We closed in on ourselves, always on the defense to survive. I barely spoke to anyone in my classes after I saw girls lash out at someone just for smiling or talking to them. It was then that I dived into books to disappear from my real life, and found out there were a lot of other ways to live.

  Lola got by with a string of boyfriends who protected her to one degree or another. She had a few fights in school, again over boys. But she mostly stayed in the shadows like me. It wasn’t until she graduated, with my help, and we moved to the city together that she busted out.

  After another long night alone, I woke up to face my day off with no enthusiasm. It was a beautiful day, so I was determined to go out. I decided to check out Lola’s performance in the park to see what my sister was up to this time.

  I put on a baseball cap—which I never wore—and tucked my hair up underneath. With big sun glasses and a baggy shirt, I didn’t think Lola would recognize me. It gave me a certain satisfaction that I could pull one over on her.

  The summer festival in McCarren Park in Williamsburg was a home-spun affair. People from all around brought their dogs dressed up for the Pets on Parade contest. There was a marching band strutting around playing funky music accented by the tuba and rhythmic beats of the base drum. Kids were running around everywhere, and there were face-painters, balloon-twisters and street performers.

  I felt happier as I wandered around. Anything was better than sitting alone. I bought an ice cream and actually laughed out loud at the dogs doing tricks in a corral for the judges.

  When I found Lola, my sister was kissing Martin. They were behind a tree, making out for all they were worth. It reminded me guiltily of Victor, and how we must have looked necking in the bar. Just off to one side, June and Spike were sitting on a blanket sorting through their gear.

  I backed away. Seeing Martin up close and in the daylight, his skin looked even more ravaged. He was too thin for his height, and his hands and feet were too big. There was nothing good-looking about him. But Lola was all over him.

  When Transcendence began their show, Lola wasn’t in it this time. Her sole job was carrying around a hat to cajole donations from the crowd. She was wearing a multi-colored taffeta petticoat with motorcycle boots and a black tank top, nothing like her usual clothes. June was dressed similarly in a camouflage skirt as she twirled a baton lit on fire, throwing it high into the air to admiring exclamations from the crowd. Then Martin juggled fire, first alone, than in tandem with Spike.

  It was flashy and entertaining. And full of fun. Nothing like the dramatic sexualized atmosphere of their show at Pleasure Salon.

  I had to keep circling to get away from Lola, and when I realized that my sister wasn’t going to take part in the show, I retreated to the other side of the festival.

  Pacing back and forth, I finally pulled out my phone and texted Lola: Doing anything fun? Love to hang out.

  Maybe if I could get to know Martin and her new friends, I wouldn’t feel so worried. Or left behind.

  It took a while, but Lola finally texted back: Working. Be home later.

  I let out my breath in a long, low rush. I could kind of understand why Lola was hiding the more sexual stuff from me. But why did Lola want to keep me away from this? It was exactly the sort of thing we both liked to do. It was the perfect way to introduce me to everyone so I could get to know them.

  Lola didn’t want me to get to know Martin. Or her other friends.

  That meant there was something to hide.

  ...

  Later on, when Lola finally got home, she was carrying a big garbage bag full of something. When I asked if she wanted to watch a movie, she replied, “I have to do laundry.”

  “On Sunday evening?” We both hated doing laundry on Sundays. The Laundromat was always stuffed with people who had put it off to enjoy their weekend.

  Lola shrugged. “You do what you gotta do.”

  It was another snub. Lola didn’t want to spend any time with me. She knew I’d rather do anything than laundry tonight.

  That was the last time I saw her for the next few days. I also didn’t hear from Victor. Maybe he was still in Atlanta, or busy with work. I was preparing myself for the possibility that he wasn’t going to text me. And I wasn’t going to text him. I was starting to feel like his sensuous touch-fest in the bar was just another way of using me. I couldn’t understand why desire had overwhelmed me, and why I had kissed him like that.

  But when I thought about him, a rush went through me, betraying me. I shouldn’t want him, even though there was so much to want. A man like that was no good for a girl like me. But it felt so right.

  I wished I had someone I could talk to. It was only because I was lonely that I had fixated on Victor this way.

  Then coming in late from my class on Wednesday, I picked up the mail from our box in the hallway wall. There was a notice from ConEd that Lola’s electronic payment had bounced.

  …

  Much later, I was already in bed by the time Lola got home. But I got up to show my sister the notice. “This is exactly what I’m worried about!”

  Lola rolled her eyes. “It wasn’t my fault. They deposited my paycheck a day late.”

  I shook the bill at her. “You need to keep more than $76.42 in your account. You can’t let it go that low or things are bound to slip up.”

  “Don’t tell me what to do!” Lola rounded on me. “Are you talking to Dick?”

  I drew back at her sudden vehemence. “He texts me sometimes, but I haven’t answered since last week.”

  “I just found him parked up the street watching our place. It’s seriously creepy. You better not be talking to him about me.”

  “He’s an idiot,” I said, thinking about the Chamber, where he had tossed me inside without a care for what would happen to me. “I won’t tell him anything. You can trust me, Lola.”

  But Lola didn’t look like she believed me. I was so wigged out by the thought of Dick sitting out there watching me sit at home alone every night, that I didn’t realize until I was lying in bed that Lola had deflected me away from the bounced check.

  I felt like I was standing on a precipice, with no one to steady me as the wind screamed past me. Lola, on the other hand, fell asleep instantly and slept like a rock.

  Chapter 8

  Victor

  With ruthless precision, I waited until Thursday before I texted Sierra. I wanted her. Bad. But I would only take advantage of her if she made it clear she was after me because I was rich.

  I texted with no preamble: You want to go to a party where Lola will be this weekend?

  After a few minutes, a text came back from Sierra: Yes.

  I replied: It’s a private party. I’ll wrangle us an invite and get back to you.

  Much quicker, her text came back: Thanks so much!

  I tucked my phone back in my pocket and got into the trolley. A plane was approaching Gate 23, and I was on baggage detail.

  I tried not to think about Sierra as I heaved bags from the belt to the cart. I’d been trying not to think about her all week, but it was no good. I couldn’t wait to see her again, as much as I tried to bury that feeling. After all, every sign pointed to her being a gold-digger. She was willing to spy on her own sister, so she was definitely the kind of girl who did whatever it took to get what she wanted.

  It was up to me to find out what she wanted.

  To get a party invitation, I was going to have to do something I had been avoiding lately. Tricia was the one in-the-know who could get me into that party. She might even be going herself.

  But I had to be careful about how I did this. If I texted Tricia, she would think it was a booty call and she would be mad if I didn’t go through with it. I
couldn’t deal with Tricia right now; I was already irritated too much from Sierra bringing up my fancy imaginary job on the heels of our passionate kisses.

  There was no doubt in my mind that Tricia only wanted me for my money, and she would dump me in a hot second if she thought I was a lesser man. She literally begged me to take her to expensive restaurants and on trips with me. But I had her convinced that I wasn’t into having a girlfriend, so she had been lingering in fuck buddy and occasional play partner status for nearly two years, longer than I had managed to string any other woman along. That was probably more a testament to her perseverance and determination to get what she wanted, rather than my charms.

  So I waited until late that night and signed onto FetLife. Sure enough, Tricia was posting in some of her groups. She was networked into the BDSM community like nobody else. Even her profile photo showed her face, blowing a kiss at the masses.

  I noticed that she had recently changed her relationship status to “In an open relationship with” some guy who lived in Brooklyn. Last year she had added me to her list as “Friends with benefits,” and I was still linked to her that way.

  I hoped her new relationship would make this easier. I sent Tricia a message through the website’s kinky chat. Hey sexy! What’s up?

  Tricia replied instantly: Nothing much. What about you? Cheeky said you were at Pleasure Salon last weekend.

  I hadn’t even noticed Cheeky; I had been so focused on Sierra. Then again, I had only seen Cheeky around a couple of times, so she could have been standing right in front of me. It reminded me of how tight-knit the BDSM community was that Tricia was getting reports on me. I was very lucky that Sierra didn’t want to make a big deal out of what I had done to her at the Chamber or my toehold in that world could have been jerked away from me.

  I had never gotten more involved with anyone I met in the scene because I wasn’t being honest about who I was. You could only get to be so friendly with people when you couldn’t talk about what you did every day.