I would not want a relationship with JD without Blue. I love him as a friend. I love him as part of this arrangement. I love him in many different ways. But I don’t love him as a man.
I push through the stairwell door and end up in our lobby. I can see the Christmas tree lot down the street from here, so I go outside and start weaving my way through the slow-moving stream of cars when my phone buzzes.
I reach into my pocket and read the message from Blue.
Will you buy ornaments and lights tonight too? So we can decorate it?
I’ll do that first, I text back.
She sends me a little picture of a Christmas tree and then a heart.
No, I don’t love JD as just a man.
But I do love Blue as just a woman.
I would definitely be happy with her all by herself.
The tree lot is full of people as I pass, and I notice they are low in inventory, so I step into the roped-off area and figure I might as well pick a tree first. Then I can drop it off at home and go back out for the other stuff.
There’s not a lot to choose from, so I grab the tallest one they have left and wait patiently as my tree goes into the checkout line where they will wrap it in a net and take my money. Fifteen minutes later, I’m walking back across the street with my first Christmas tree purchased as an adult.
Before I came to Denver, I lived in Miami. And Miami just wasn’t the same at Christmas. I never had time for a serious relationship back then, so I never bothered to get a tree. But this is meaningful for partners. Celebrating holidays is part of strengthening the bonds of love.
JD and I never got a tree either. The holidays were always a busy season for us. Lots of girls need money at Christmas. We never had a shortage of willing participants.
I drag the tree inside the building and then inside the elevator, picturing how nice the loft will look once it’s decorated.
The car dings and the doors open, so I drag my tree out and head to the door.
I expect squealing when I enter the loft. And I do hear that. But it’s not for the tree I dump in the foyer.
It’s Blue, screaming like she’s getting a beating.
I run down the hallway to JD’s room and fling the door open. It takes me whole seconds of silence to come to terms with what I’m seeing.
Blue is face down on the floor, her cheek pressed so hard against the polished concrete I can’t even see her left eye. The right eye is wide open, looking up at me. Makeup runs down her cheek from the tears. Her face is red, like she was just slapped. Her breathing hitches, letting me know she’s really crying.
JD’s dick is in her ass, her dress ripped open up the back to give him access. And her panties are still on, but skewed off to the side. One hand is wrapped around her throat, his thumb pressed over her artery. The other is pulling her hair.
“It’s not what you think,” JD growls. Almost like he’s pissed off I’m interrupting his fuck.
I walk over and punch him in the face, and he goes reeling across the floor.
“I told you,” he yells. “It’s not what you think!”
I pull Blue up from the floor and pull her close. “Are you OK?”
She can’t or won’t meet my gaze. But she nods.
“Ark—”
“Shut the fuck up, JD!” I yell it. My voice booms up to the very top of his high ceilings, making Blue jump in my arms.
He’s up off the floor now, his dick still hard, his eyes raging with anger. “We had an arrangement.”
“Yeah, our arrangement was that you’d treat her nice.”
“Not me and you, Ark. Me and her.”
His words stop me cold.
“She likes it rough, man. She does. Just ask her. She loves to be ravished—”
“Raped!”
“I’m not raping her, asshole. It’s fantasy.”
“It’s sick!”
As soon as it comes out, I regret it. Because Blue wriggles in my arms, manages to escape, and then runs to JD’s bathroom and slams the door.
“Good one, dickface,” JD says as he follows her. He twists the handle, but it clicks from side to side. “I’ll break the door down, Blue. You know I will. So unlock it.”
She does not unlock it.
And that’s when I notice the cameras. “You’ve been filming all this?”
“You told me to,” he says, still twisting the handle. “Blue?” He pounds on it a few times. “Open the fucking door.”
Silence.
I sit down on the bed and hold my hands in my head. “What the fuck is going on?”
JD is staring at me when I look back up. “We give you the vanilla tapes. I keep the ravish—”
“Stop using that stupid word!”
“Whatever. I keep the rough ones. But I taped them, just like you wanted. She’s happy with this, Ark. She is. All you have to do is watch them and you’ll see. You just told her she was sick for liking it, so she’s gonna have a hard time admitting that to you, but this is fact. The girl wants to be choked. And spanked. And I’m not talking little swats to the ass. She likes it hard, dude. She wants my dick down her throat, the tears streaming down her face, on her knees—”
“Enough!” I bellow. “Jesus fucking Christ. How the fuck can you be so stupid? So blind? Did it ever occur to you that she likes it because she can’t stop thinking of herself as a goddamned prisoner?”
“She likes it because it feels good. You just refuse to admit that.”
“She told me tonight she feels like a bird in a cage with the door open, you idiot. In her mind, she never stopped being a fucking captive! And you’re making it worse!”
“Fuck you. You’re just jealous—”
I cross the room so fast, I even surprise myself. The next moment, JD is sprawled out on the floor and my hand is wrapped around his neck. I’m bigger than him by twenty pounds and three inches at least. And I’m stronger than him. I work out five days a week in the gym downstairs. So he never has a chance.
I lean down into his face as it turns red. “I’m only gonna say this one time, my friend. If you ever fuck her like she’s a whore on the street again, I will kill you.”