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Indeed, they had addressed continuing to explore kinky situations, but not enough to sate Paige’s thirst for knowledge. Rhea was cagey – she liked talking about their night at the club, but only as much as it turned Paige on enough to make out or get frisky beneath the sheets.Not that much of that has been going on.Much to Rhea’s dismay, Paige was sure.Did she think the horny switch had been flipped like that?Probably. Rhea was capable of deep and complex thoughts about other people, but when it came to her wife, the blinders came out.
So, when Paige found a booth advertising “First Time Kink Kits, 50% Off With Voucher,” she was inclined to go for it. What was the worst that could happen?We find out that it’s not for us? Please.It had to be better than being interested in anything elsebutsex.
Because Paige had been reminded of the carnal delights that could lead her to a place far away from her real life. She was interested… but this only worked if her wife was on board.
“I think you’d make a great Domme,” she whispered across the table. “You’re already a hot top, hon.”
Rhea wasn’t scandalized, but the fierce fire behind her eyes told Paige to cool it. “I don’t want to…” she looked around. “Make it a lifestyle. I know that’s not me. Maybe we could do some restraints and spanking and stuff inprivate,but I’m not into putting it all on display in the club like that. Not if it’s planned. Exhibitionism is not for me.”
“Sure. I can roll with that.”
Rhea shook her head. “Are you really the woman I married? I’ve never seen this side of you before.”
Paige couldn’t help but grin. “You shoulda seen me when I was an undergrad in college.”
Because that bitch? She was back.
Chapter 12
TheMalibusurfwasas picturesque as ever. Rhea rarely wished she had a convertible, but whenever she drove north on the Pacific Coast Highway, she imagined taking the top of her car down and letting the fresh sea air blow through her hair.
I never realized how much I needed things like this until I moved to Santa Monica.The two cities were neighbors first, different worlds second. But Rhea always counted the differences when she traveled from one to the other. For as much as Santa Monica was home now, she was always struck by the childhood nostalgia that hit when she drove to her dad’s.
People were more relaxed in Malibu. Surf culture had a grip on her time in public school like it did on the world when she was growing up in the ‘90s.Never forget Malibu Barbie.Or TV shows likeHannah MontanaandPrivate Practice,both of which Rhea hated to admit she had watched while they were on the air.In my defense,Hannah Montanawas a good kid’s show.She didn’t only like it because one of her writing buddies had gone on to be a scriptwriter for it.
Even rock bands like Hole had a song about Malibu. Books were set there. Plays, movies, video games… everyone loved Malibu, and Rhea had no idea how good she had it growing up.
The waves looked warm and inviting. Surfers lined up on the beach to take another plunge. Open Jeeps and top-down convertibles sped by Rhea as she contemplated grabbing ice cream from the same drive-thru she used to work at in the summers. It was still there, after all. Last time she drove through, it was another teenager making a few bucks in the window.
Everything was so simple, sometimes. Like the Californian beaches sometimes faced south, not west.
Which was a detail her dad always made fun of her for when she mentioned how weird it was to see the sunset over the ocean in Santa Monica.
“That’s what you get for leaving home,” he said with a chortle the moment Rhea put down the prescription medication she picked up for him at the pharmacy down the street. “I’ve got a window that faces south right here. Don’t gotta worry about it destroying my retinas.”
“What makes you think about that?”
Danny was inclined to wave away his heart medicine, but when his daughter gave him another look, he reluctantly grabbed the cup of water. “I’ve been to that fancy house of yours. Your main window faces west. Feels like a furnace in there even with the AC on.”
Rhea also drank some water as she tidied up the kitchen. In the two days since the cleaner had last been there, Danny had already made a mess on the dining table and spilled what looked like orange juice on the kitchen linoleum. Rhea said nothing as she grabbed some paper towels and unearthed the antibacterial cleaner from beneath the sink. Her father watched her, silent.
It wasn’t that Danny thought cleaning was “women’s work” or that he was too lazy to do it for himself. What must have killed him watching his only child get on her knees and scrub old orange juice off the floor was the thought that hecouldn’tdo it. Not when he was still stuck in a wheelchair, only getting up long enough to use the bathroom or move himself to the couch or his bed. Even in the shower, Rhea had installed a bench so Danny didn’t have to exert himself using the detachable showerhead. All of this painted a picture of a very sick man recovering from a pivotal moment in his medical history – something he was too proud to say messed with him.
Even before his wife’s death, Danny had been an independent man. He approached being a widower with a child as a challenge, taking on most of the household responsibilities until Rhea became more adept at helping him when asked.He always worried about me thinking I had to do things because I was a girl, or because he was the one who paid for everything.Even so, when the opportunity to go to boarding school on a scholarship came, she worried about her father being left alone for the first time since meeting his wife.
Now it felt so… normal. To leave him alone. It seemed like that was what he wanted.
“You don’t have to do that,” he muttered when Rhea was done. “I can get it.”
Rhea didn’t argue with him. There was no point. Besides, she and Paige did what they could when the nurse wasn’t around. Which was a more frequent occurrence since the insurance was running out.
“I read that book you sent me.” Danny tilted his wheelchair toward his daughter when she sat on the couch.
“You mean the oneIwrote?”
“Yeah, you sent it to me. ‘Member?”
Rhea nodded. “That was a few months ago.”
