Richard. Sounds like an old guy name. Don’t meet many dudes our age with a name like Richard. “So you’re dating a Dick, huh? I’m sure he’s a thrill a second.” I can’t help but be petty. Kaya ushers me through the apartment—it’s practically empty. The top of a large pine dining table is propped up against the wall beside the television, in three pieces. Fragments of a shattered chair lies on the floor next to it. It’s a miracle the TV screen is in tact, given that almost every other stick of furniture in the place is damaged in some way.
“Richard’s my college professor. We have dinner and like to talk once a week,” Kaya says.
“Ah. You have a student/teacher relationship.”
“We’re physically and emotionally attracted to one another, but we only fulfill our desires to be intellectually intimate with one another.”
“So you don’t fuck.”
Kaya smiles, her red lips upturning in a very pleasant way that makes me think of kissing her. “No. We don’t fuck.”
“Why not?”
“Because it wouldn’t be ethical. He’s in a position of power. I’m his student. It’s against the University’s rules for him to physically engage with anyone he teaches.”
“But you want to sleep with him?”
“I want to sleep with you, Mason. I occasionally want to sleep with other people, too. I have a high sex drive. That doesn’t mean I actually do it, though.”
“Maybe you should.” I’ve always believed women should be able to sleep with whoever the fuck they want like guys do. So long as there’s no cheating or underhanded sneaking around and it’s all safe, a girl should be able to explore her sexuality and go on just as many adventures as guys. When I think about Kaya blowing Richard, her college professor, though, I feel more than a little unseated. Who the fuck is this guy? And what kind of electro shock device does he have strapped to his dick to stop him from trying to screw Kaya every time he lays eyes on her. I mean, her dress… shit. I want to rip it off her body right now with my teeth.
It’s rare that she’s not wearing that huge parka coat of hers. Now that I can see the delicious curves of her body, swelling in all the right places under the thin wool of her dress, I can’t stop myself from imagining my hands all over her skin, cupping and squeezing tightly.
Kaya sinks gracefully down onto the couch, kicking off the small black ankle boots she’s wearing to reveal bare feet, toenails painted the same shocking red as her lips. “I think denying myself the things I want makes me appreciate them more,” she says. “Sex is one of my favorite pastimes, but it wouldn’t be as fun if I gave in and allowed myself to have it all the time. Would birthday cake be as special if you ate it every day instead of just once a year?”
“I don’t know. I love birthday cake. I think I could eat it every day and not get sick of it.” I don’t mention the fact that my love for cake pales in comparison next to my love of getting my dick sucked. I can’t remember the last time that happened, though. With Millie being so sick recently, and money being so tight, my life has consisted of work and hospital visits. More work, and more hospital visits.
“Trust me,” Kaya says. “When you’re patient, and you make yourself wait for the things you want so badly, getting them is that much more enjoyable.” A seductive smile lingers on her lips. She glances down at the space next to her on the sofa. “Are you planning on standing up for the rest of the night, or d’you think you might be able to sit down. You’re making me uncomfortable.”
I think this is a lie. I doubt I’d ever be able to make this girl uncomfortable; she’s so self-possessed and at home in her own skin. It wouldn’t matter if I were standing on hot coals. Kaya would happily witness me do it and it wouldn’t make her own feet itch. I sit down next to her anyway, leaving a seven-inch gap between our bodies so I’m not right on top of her. We’re close enough that I can smell her, though—the warm, gentle, floral note of her perfume, and the subtle note of something rich and smoky, too.
“So your friend left town,” she says. “I’m glad you managed to hunt him down.”
“Yeah. Hopefully he’ll be safe now that he’s out of state.”
“He will. Johnny and his guys are shrewd businessmen, but they’re not gonna waste time chasing someone halfway across the country just to teach them a lesson. They’re too lazy. I keep trying to explain that to Jameson, but he’s a stubborn son of a bitch. He says the only way he’s leaving Seattle’s in a body bag or the trunk of a car.”
“He might get his wish.”
“He might.” She says this breezily, as if the prospect of her brother being murdered is of no consequence to her. “Like I said back at the café, though. My brother seems to have a way of always landing on his feet. He was on the roster to fight this weekend. He’s still planning on showing up. I don’t think Johnny’s going to have him kneecapped at the last minute and make him miss his match. They’d lose too much money. Jameson’s not the only person betting that he’ll win, you know. Every single bookie in a twenty mile radius is betting the same way.”