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Plus, he’s smooth. He’s so smooth, so practiced, so charming. I saw that last time, and I see it again. Suddenly I wonder if I’ve been wrong, that he’s a player after all. It’s possible that I’ve made a huge mistake. My gut bubbles with anxiety, and I feel the urge to leave the class—it would be easy enough since I’m at the back. But if I leave, he might follow me. I don’t want that kind of scene.
I’m over reacting. I know I am, but these past couple of days don’t erase the last month. I don’t know what to think. I’m too distracted in my swirl of thoughts to pay attention to his words. But I watch him. I watch him as he sneaks glances at me, sharing faces and subtle expressions when someone else is asking a question. He winks a couple more times. He doesn’t flirt with anyone but me. Somehow that makes me even more nervous. If I was wrong—if he’s a player, he could be playing me really well. He could be stringing me along until he gets what he wants from me and then I’ll be left broken and vulnerable again.
Before I know it, the class is over. There’s wild applause that is almost laughable, and Philip takes a little bow. I fight down my unease. I’m making something out of nothing. Or am I? I feel a little sick, the two thoughts chasing each other in circles inside me. Just like before, I hang back. I said later, and I’ll give him that chance. I could be getting in my own way, or my subconscious could be trying to warn me. After the last hour I don’t know what to think.
The brunette from the first row sidles up to Philip, wrapping him in a hug and giving him a kiss on the cheek. When she pulls away, Philip glances down at her breasts which are spilling out of her top. She slips him a piece of paper, and he smiles that brilliant smile. They laugh together, and my stomach plummets. I can’t watch this. I can’t stand to watch what I hoped he was unravel in front of me. I push through the curtains at the back of the classroom, ducking through the crowd of people still milling through the store. Someone near the door shoves a flyer in my hand for future classes. I barely manage to say thank you before pushing out of the store and into the open air.
I can breathe a little better out here, but my chest is tight with anxiety and worry and the fear that I did exactly what I said I wouldn’t—jumped into bed with someone exactly like Bryan. I need some time. I need to get out of here. So many people came to the class today that I had to park a few blocks away. I head in that direction, trying to focus on my breathing and telling myself that everything is fine. I haven’t had a panic attack in a long time, but I’m almost there.
I’m halfway to my car when I stop dead in the middle of the sidewalk. There, coming out of a restaurant, is the last person I expected to see. It’s Bryan.
My muscles lock down, and I’m not sure what to do. That’s not true, I should turn around and walk away, but I’m rooted to the spot. Then it gets worse, because he looks up and sees me. I think all the blood in me drains to my toes. I’m not ready for this, I’m not ready to stand in front of him. But I don’t have a choice, because he’s coming over to me. Sick dread pools in my stomach with every step that he takes towards me.
“Mayra,” he says, looking confused. “I’m surprised to see you in this part of town.”
I swallow, “Yeah, I had…an appointment.”
“Did you follow me here?” He laughs after he says it, like he’s joking, but I know that laugh and I know he’s not.
“No,” I say. “I’m just leaving now, going to my car.”
He looks down at my hands, and I do too, and I realize I’m holding the neon pink flyer for all the sex classes. The Pleasure Chest logo is plastered on the front, and the font would be big enough to read from space. A cruel smile comes onto Bryan’s face. “I’m guessing your ‘appointment’ was one of those bogus classes they offer at that store. You might as well give that up now. A class won’t be able to fix you.”
Anger surges through me, and I straighten my spine. “You’re full of shit, Bryan,” I say. “First, whether I take a class for my own enjoyment is none of your business, and second, I don’t ‘suck at sucking.’” I use my fingers to punctuate his own words. “I don’t suck at anything sexual. If you think that, it’s your problem.”
The words feel good, and I realize that I actually believe them. I never thought I was as bad at everything as he claimed, but I didn’t have the confidence to say it.
Bryan looks a little shocked, like the last thing he expected was for me to contradict what he’d decided about me. Then, his eyes narrow, that all pretense of friendliness disappearing. “You think you can disagree with me? I’ve had more sex than you, Mayra. I’ve had better sex than you. I think I’m the one in a position to say whether or not you’re good and bed.” He laughs, the sound dark and sinister. “I can’t believe you would even try to tell me I’m wrong about this. But then again, you always were a dumb slut.”
The words hit me in the gut like a physical blow, and I take a step back, all the confidence I had disappearing. I feel like a hole has opened up under me, and I’m falling even though I’m standing still.
Bryan doesn’t stop. “But I suppose you’re too stupid to even know that. I’ll tell you what, I’m feeling generous today. If you ask me very nicely—maybe on your knees—I’ll take you back to my place. That class won’t teach you anything, but my new girlfriend will be able to show you a few tricks. Things that even someone as hopeless as you will be able to use.”
I’m looking down at the sidewalk, wishing it would swallow me whole when someone walks past me. I think that the only thing that would make this more humiliating is someone witnessing it—and then I stop because I realize that the person is Philip, and that he has Bryan by the shirt up against the wall of the restaurant. I feel my jaw drop open, ironically matching the expression on Bryan’s face.
I hear Philip’s voice, and it’s like I’ve never heard it before—deadly and quiet, like black satin in the dead of night. It’s a voice that lets me know without a doubt that he’s seen battle. “You must be Bryan,” he says. “You want to stop talking now, and you want to walk away. Once you walk away, never contact Mayra again. Am I clear?”
Bryan shoves Philip off him. “Who the fuck are you man? You think you can just walk into my business and tell me what to do? I’ll talk to her any time I want, and she’ll listen to me. I’m the best thing that ever happened to that whore. I ought to kick your ass for putting your nose where it doesn’t belong.”
For a second, Philip doesn’t move. And then, a smile comes onto his face. Where Bryan’s smile can be cruel, Philip’s can be terrifying. I’m happy I’m not on the receiving end of it, and there’s a significant part of me that’s jumping for joy that Bryan is going to get what’s coming to him. It all happens so fast I can barely see it. Philip grabs Bryan’s arm, twisting it behind him and shoving him face first into the wall. Bryan is struggling, but he’s not going anywhere—I know just how strong Philip is. Bryan is almost crying, his shoulder dislocating.
Still with that smile, Philip starts to speak. “Apologize. Now. Or you won’t have a jaw to keep running your mouth with.”
“I’m sorry, geeze.”
Philip drags him off the wall and shoves him away. Bryan stumbles, barely catching himself as he massages arm. He looks between Philip and me. “You’re fucking crazy, man. Have her. She’s not nearly good enough for me.”
Philip takes a step towards him, and Bryan takes off, sprinting down the sidewalk away from us. He doesn’t stop running until we can’t see him anymore. As soon as he disappears, all the tension disappears from Philip’s body. He comes to me, pulls me into his arms, and I let him. “Are you all right?” he asks.
I wrap my arms around his waist, letting the warmth of his body seep into mine. Tilting my face up, I make it clear what I want, and Philip kisses me. I explore his mouth with my tongue, showing him just how all right I am thanks to him. “Thank you,” I say, when he pulls away, “That was great.”
He smiles. “My pleasure.”
Now that Bryan is gone and I’m panick
ing less, the reason I left the class in the first place comes back to me. I extricate myself from his arms. “I have to ask why you’re here, though.”
A flash of hurt crosses his features. “I’m here because I came after you. You disappeared after class again, I might add. I’m not sure what you mean, why wouldn’t I be here with you?”
“I saw…” I bite my lip, embarrassed that I’m even going to say it. “I saw that gorgeous brunette give you her number. We’ve only been hanging out for a couple of days…I thought you might want to go home with her tonight.”
He laughs. “She did give me her number. And she suggested some very creative ways she wanted to practice the class on me. I told her no.”
“She was smiling an awful lot for someone who was rejected.”
“Come here,” he says, tugging me back into him. He kisses me softly. I feel it all the way to my core, my body responding to the honesty in his kiss. Every part of me aches with the need for more of that, for more of him. “When I told her I was seeing someone else, that girl smiled and told me that girl was very, very lucky.”
I barely give him a chance to finish his sentence before I kiss him again, hard and deep. He returns the favor, and I feel like this kiss could fuse us together. My stomach is swooping and soaring and I don’t ever want it to end. We’re pressed up against the wall of the restaurant and I don’t know how we got there. His hands are in my hair and my hands are under his shirt. His tongue is driving into me the same way I want his cock to drive into me.
