Against the Ropes (14 page)

Max pulls his finger out and thrusts two fingers in, ripping a cry from my lips. His fingers plunge in and out while his thumb rubs the sides of my sweet spot until my legs buckle. Max’s arm tightens around me, holding me up.

So close. So damn close. I need release so badly, I groan.

“Let it go.” Max brushes his thumb over my throbbing center. Once. Twice. Three times is all it takes. “Come for me, baby.”

His deeply erotic words catapult me to orgasm. It hits with such force, I scream. My first-ever orgasm scream. Thunder roars through my ears, and my sex spasms around his fingers, each contraction sending lightning bolts of pleasure through my body. But he doesn’t stop. His fingers continue to work their magic, drawing out my orgasm until I go limp, and only his arm keeps me from slumping to the ground.

When he finally withdraws his fingers, I am seized by uncontrollable shivers. Max wraps his arms around me and holds me tight. This is not how I ever imagined my first non-Makayla-induced orgasm would be. No soft bed. No gentle touching. No slight quiver and a tiny burst of pleasure. This was wild. Uncontrolled. There were ropes and metal and cold and fear.

My blood chills. Fear has no place in the bedroom or even on Twin Peaks. I stiffen in Max’s arms and pull away. God, I’m a mess. “Can we go now?”

Max’s brow creases. “What’s wrong?”

Stomach churning, I scoop up my clothes and tug them on. “Nothing. I’m good. Just…cold.” Damn. I forgot my skirt. I ball it in my fist and stuff it down the front of my pants.

“Come here, baby.”

“Okay. All ready to go.” I plaster a fake smile across my face.

Max stalks over to me and cups my face in his hands. “It’s okay to be afraid.”

“I’m not afraid of you.”

His eyes soften. “Maybe not, but you are afraid of you.”

I’m not that kind of girl

I am awakened by the jarring buzz of my phone. I fumble around until I locate the offending device and hold it to my ear.

“Good morning, Ms. Delaney.”

At the sound of Sergio’s voice, I come fully awake. My alarm clock reads ten a.m. Sun streams through the crack in my curtains. I am naked in bed. Alone.

“It’s Sunday. Why are you calling me on a Sunday? There must be laws against harassing people on the weekend.”

“I am permitted to call you between eight a.m. and nine p.m. seven days a week, as many times as I wish so long as you do not feel harassed. Do you feel harassed Ms. Delaney?”

“Yes. I have two days to sleep in every week and you have just ruined one of them. I most definitely feel harassed.”

Sergio chuckles. “I didn’t want you to sleep the day away. The sun is shining. The birds are singing. The debts are growing.”

“How thoughtful.”

“I am thoughtful,” he croons. “My thoughtfulness has motivated me to call you this morning to remind you about the payment due tomorrow.”

“I’m glad you called. Just give me a minute.” I scramble around the room looking for my notes from the calls I made to various government agencies about student loan debt collection.

“Take all the time you need, Ms. Delaney. You are my only call of the day.”

After retrieving the papers from the bottom of my backpack, I make myself comfortable on my bed.

“I understand if I am on the rehabilitation program, I have twenty days to make each payment from the day it is due. So, in fact, I have twenty-one days to make the payment due tomorrow.”

Sergio huffs into the phone. “I do so hate debtors who think they know the law. That provision kicks in only AFTER you make the first payment. You aren’t getting out of it so easily.”

“No way. I researched it.”

“Not well enough.”

My heart sinks. “I can’t pay it all. Only some of it.”

“Beg, borrow, and steal, Ms. Delaney. I can assure you the last thing you want is for me to run down to court and get an order to seize your parents’ home and your paycheck.”

“What about the Education Commission? Did they contact you about my complaint? Are the payments frozen yet?”

I hear a familiar rattle on Sergio’s end of the phone—like a hospital gurney. More rattles. It is a hospital gurney. Maybe he’s visiting a friend. Do debt collectors have friends?

“They were very efficient with your file,” Sergio says. “Apparently, after you accepted your new position, they reevaluated your file and canceled the deferment. They sent you a letter to that effect informing you that your payment obligations had been reinstated.”

“I didn’t get it.”

“It seems from the file, they sent it to your previous address.”

“What?” My voice rises in pitch and I throw the covers off. “I told them my new address when I moved.”

Someone coughs in the background on Sergio’s end and I can hear the tinny sound of a PA. Definitely a hospital. Why would he call me from a hospital? Is he that dedicated to his work?

Sergio sighs. “You have issues with them, you deal with them. All I care about is the money you owe.”

“Please, Sergio. Can I pay part of it? I’ve got extra work and I’ll be able to pay the rest next week.”

“Unfortunately for you, I get a big fat bonus if you make all your rehabilitation payments on time, and an even fatter bonus if I get all the money at once, say from a foreclosure. And I need that bonus—” He cuts himself off, choking on his words.

Seriously? He’s getting upset over the possibility he won’t get his Porsche?

“Has the clock started ticking?” I scramble to find a way out.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Is your bonus calculated from the day I make the first payment or the day you first called me?”

Sergio gives a thin laugh. “Clever. I’ll be honest with you. It’s calculated from the day of your first payment.”

“What if I tell you a really good joke? Can I have an extra week? It won’t affect your bottom line. I’ve never sworn at you or called you names or hung up on you. It must be hard to have people be nasty all day. But if you’re nice to me, I’ll be nice to you.”

Silence.

“Sergio?”

“I’m thinking. This is quite novel. I’m trying to decide if it would affect my bonus.”

Jeez. This guy’s materialistic streak makes me ill. But I can do obsequious like the best of them. “I’ve seen the lineup for next year’s Porsche collection. To be honest, you would do better to wait.”

“You know about cars?”

I fall back against the pillows. He hasn’t said no, which means he might say yes. “My stepfather is into cars. I go with him to all the auto shows.”

“You continue to surprise and delight me, Ms. Delaney. Tell me your joke. If it makes me laugh, I’ll give you an extra week. It won’t affect my bottom line, and I could use a joke right now.”

I squeeze my eyes shut and try to slow my racing heart. Although our conversation has been cordial, I can’t ignore the underlying threat. My brain blanks. This is all so new. So foreign.

And that reminds me of a joke.

“Three debt collectors are captured by cannibals…”

***

Pick
up. Pick up. Pick up.

Amanda answers her phone on the fourth ring. “How was dinner? Did you sleep with him?”

“No. I need—”

“You didn’t sleep with him?” Her voice rises with incredulity.

“No, but the debt collector called my house, and I need—”

“What happened?” she interjects yet again. “It was the perfect set up. Cozy dinner at his house. Talk about the relationship. Engage in hot and heavy makeup sex.”

“Amanda. I have a problem.”

“You sure do, honey. If you haven’t been able to get Max into bed by now, you need some special help.”

“He tied me naked to his motorcycle at Twin Peaks and walked away, and I liked it,” I blurt out.

Silence.

“Amanda?”

“I just knew he was kinky,” she breathes. “Like Drake, who is, by the way, in my kitchen getting a glass of water to rehydrate after our night of festivities.”

“Doctor Drake is at your house?” My voice rises in pitch. “You slept with Doctor Drake?”

“Jake is avoiding me,” she snaps. “It won’t do. And since we’re broken up, Drake was more than happy to help a girl in need. He knows the score.”

“He’s my boss!” I shriek. “You can’t sleep with my boss.”

“Ooops. Too late. The deed is already done. Multiple times.”

“Nooooo!” I am reminded of Edvard Munch’s painting
The
Scream
. No doubt his muse was someone who discovered her best friend was sleeping with her boss.

“He certainly has creative ideas about how to use a thermometer,” she giggles. “And a stethoscope and—”

I hold the phone away from my ear. “Don’t tell me. Don’t tell me.”

“You should try it sometime.” Her voice takes on a teasing lilt. “You might like it.”

I wrap the sheet tight around my body as if she might suddenly appear with the aforementioned medical instruments. “I won’t. I’m not into kinky stuff.”

“How would you know? Yesterday was your first experience. When you do finally get Max into bed, he’s going to think he’s the luckiest man alive. You’re like a virgin minus the virginal bit. A blank slate. He can mold you to fit his kinkiest desires, and you’ll think it is normal.”

My body heats imagining Max’s kinkiest desires. Suddenly, the sheet is too hot and I kick it off, letting the cool air soothe my burning skin. “I’m not totally unaware of what goes on in the bedroom.”

“Trust me, you are.”

I suck in a breath. “Do you think Max is into…kinky stuff?”

“Did any of your other boyfriends strip off your clothes and tie you to a motorcycle?”

“No.”

“Did he just happen to have some rope or other restraining device handy?”

My stomach sinks. “Yes.”

“Then I diagnose a severe case of kinkiness, and you’re going in the deep end.” She giggles and whispers something intelligible.

“Is Doctor Drake in the room? Are you letting him hear our conversation?” I bolt upright in the bed.

“He’s just gone out again to look through the pie cupboard where I keep my sex toys. We didn’t spend much time in the bed—mostly in the kitchen, on the couch, the dining table, the shower, and out on the balcony. You missed out big time. He is kink on a stick. And with his knowledge of female anatomy—”

“I don’t want to hear it. What about Jake? If he was pissed off with your games before, I can’t imagine he would be happy to know you are sexing it up with my BOSS.”

Amanda snorts a laugh. “Since when did you become the expert on men? I thought you just told me you didn’t even get Max into bed. What happened?”

I twist the sheet in my hand. “I…it was so intense it scared me, and I didn’t like that he made me like it. I tried to talk to him about it afterward, but I couldn’t explain myself and he didn’t seem to understand. It kind of ruined the mood. Eventually we decided it would be best to call it a night.”

“Poor Max,” Amanda chortles. “He must have had a hard night after dropping you off.”

“Amanda!”

“Text him. Let him know you’re okay.”

“I’m not okay. I’m confused.”

“Tell him that too. And for the record, he didn’t make you like it. You like it or you don’t like it. It’s all up to you.”

I wriggle under the covers and pull them over my head. I am going to hide here all day. No debt collectors. No kinky fighters. No friends sleeping with my boss. “You aren’t making me feel any better, and he wasn’t even the reason I called. I have another problem—”

Amanda’s voice drops to a low rasp. “He’s sucking my toes.”

“Ewww. TMI. And I’m sure he can hear you. Does he know it’s me?”

“No,” she whispers. “And he can’t hear me. He’s under the covers.”

“Please. Take me away,” I whimper.

“You’re safe. He’s just slithered out of the bed and is racing toward the kitchen. He’s so exciting. I never know what he’s going to do next.”

My stomach churns. “Don’t tell me any more. Every time I look at him at work I’m going to have inappropriate images in my head. What if I blurt out something without thinking? What if we’re in a meeting and someone says something about toes? I won’t be able to control myself.”

“Oooooo. He’s been through my toy stash and now he wants to play,” she murmurs. “He’s holding things up one by one to—Bad dog. Get off the bed. Stop. Don’t bite the pillows. Oh, wait. Those aren’t pillows.” She bursts into laughter. Well, at least one of us is having fun.

“I’m hanging up,” I say morosely.

“No wait. The debt collector.” She mumbles something and I hear the unmistakable sound of a bed creaking. “You have to find a way to shut him down.”

“But—” I have too many questions and I need her full attention. “Do you have time to meet up for coffee?”

Amanda giggles. “I think I’ll be staying in bed today. Drake has brought in a bowl of ice, a bag of clothespins, a packet of twist ties, a cucumber, and a bottle of hot sauce. Ooooh. And a pair of handcuffs. Where do you think he found those?”

I sigh. “I don’t think he would have had to look too hard.”

“Oh wait, someone’s at the door. Hold on. I’ll be able to give you my full attention once I’m out of the bedroom.”

She breathes into the phone and I imagine her walking through her country chic living room filled with pastel antiques and cozy chintz. A lock clunks. A door creaks.

“Jake!” She gives a squeak of horror.

My pulse races. “Get him out of there,” I whisper. “Don’t let him see—”

“Who’s that?” Jake’s voice is so loud I hold the phone away from my ear. “Damn it, Amanda, you didn’t waste any time did you?”

“You wouldn’t see me.” Her voice is thin, high, and almost unrecognizable. My eyes prickle with tears.

“So you jump into bed with the first guy who comes along?” he shouts. “When the going gets tough, Amanda gets laid? Is that about it? Is that how you handle a relationship? Is that all I meant to you?”

“Jake,” she whispers. Her voice is thick with horror and regret.

I slap my hand over my mouth. In all the years I’ve known her, I’ve never heard her sound so desolate.

“If I never see you again, it will be too soon.” The door slams.

Amanda draws in a breath and a sob rips from her throat.

“I’m on my way, honey.” I end the call and jump out of bed.

No Max for me today. Tension eases from my shoulders. I have a little breathing room.

***

Hi Max

How is my girl today?

Ok

Just okay?

Just ok

Because of me?

U and other things

I’m coming over

U can’t. I’m going 2 c Amanda

We should talk

She needs me

I need you

She needs me more

**frowns** I want to see you

I’ll send you a picture

Now?

No. I’m not dressed

Waiting for picture

You want me to sext you?

Waiting for picture

I’m a sexting virgin

Waiting for picture

I might get hurt

How?

Your phone is so big **trembles**

True. Phones don’t get any bigger than mine

So modest

Waiting for picture

I’m not that kind of girl

What kind of girl are you?

Naked kind

Max likes naked kind

Confused kind

Max likes confused kind

Sorry kind

Don’t be sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you

I was scared

I know

But also **blushes**

Max likes **blushes**

I have 2 go or I’ll miss the bus

I’ll send Lewis to take you. He’ll wait until you want to go home

No need. Bus is fine

You take care of Amanda. I’ll take care of you

***

“Mac, I have a favor to ask.” Dr. Drake flips my desk sign to
Closed
and rounds the partition to join Big Doris in my cubicle.

My stomach twists and I clasp my knees together and look down. After the unwanted glimpse into his sexsational life, I’ve been trying to keep my distance from him for the last two days. But fate has seen fit to reward me with Big Doris and Kink on a Stick in my cubby at the same time.