Page 87 of Rum Sips and Salty Lips

“Why did you start your company? Your empire?”

“That’s a different question.” I kiss him and roll us so I straddle him. We could stay like this for hours and I wouldn’t have to answer. We’ve always used sex as a distraction from our real problems. My only problem now is how much I want him.

But as much as I deny it, he knows me. Knows what I’m doing. “Carina, tell me.”

“Or what?” I grind into his cock.

“No orgasm until I’m satisfied.”

“You wouldn’t.”

He flips me onto my back and holds himself above me so we aren’t touching. “I promise pleasure until you pass out if you tell me.”

“Isn’t that what just happened?”

“Then you know I’m good for the threat.”

“You’re a manipulative bastard, you know that?” He lowers his body onto mine and I love the weight of him.

“You love it.”

He’s right. I do. I love him. I’m not sure when it happened, but it did.

“You can’t hide from me, Carina.”

“Fine.” I push him off me so I can sit up and cover myself. “My parents are both successful people. My dad founded a million businesses and then sold them off once they were profitable. Now he mostly invests in startups as an angel investor, as you have figured out. My mother is a lawyer. Made partner young and was always chasing bigger and flashier clients.”

“Okay, I get that. Both my parents work in real estate. I am familiar with the drive for more, more, more.”

“Exactly. They were both always busy and—this sounds terrible so I’m saying it and I don’t want you to react.”

“Sure.”

He’ll react. I know it. “I don’t think they cared about me. I know they love me. But I think they had a kid because it was expected, not out of any deep parental desire. I was in childcare a lot. When I aged out, it was after-school programs and sports. When we came to Wendell Beach, they thought the public beach lifeguards were as good a babysitter as any.”

He takes my hand in his and squeezes before I continue.

“Even with the hands-off approach to parenting, they had one lesson for me: don’t fail.” It was drilled into me since I was small. Public failures were pointed at and ridiculed. I asked onceif it was better to try. They told me that was done in private where no one could see.

Of course, this doesn’t work for everything. I watched them try for years to fix their marriage in private. It ultimately failed and both spent the next few years saving face in their social circles.

I was another asset to be divided up in the divorce.

“In college, I opted for business rather than law. My dad said he would give me startup funds as a graduation gift if I came up with a business plan. I spent four years brainstorming and researching, until I had a plan for sustainable activewear. It’s a growing market and people will pay more if they think their clothing is doing moral good like taking water bottles out of the ocean. It felt fail-proof.”

“So it’s bullshit? You don’t believe in your own mission statement?”

“No, I do. It’s complicated. See, a successful activewear company is good. It empowers people to move their bodies and go on adventures and connect spiritually. But if we can do thatandwork against climate change? Even better. And with size inclusivity, I’m one step closer to a perfect company.”

“And one step farther from failure. So your parents will finally pay attention to you.”

I huff, feeling hurt. “Don’t make fun of me. This is really hard to share.”

His brown eyes fill with concern. “I know. I’m sorry. But you know this doesn’t make sense. Your parents won’t change their behavior.”

I can’t even remember the last conversation I had with my mom. She can’t bill time for a phone call with me, so she sure as hell never calls. “But if I accept that, then I am accepting my relationship with my parents as is. It won’t get any better.”

He pulls me into his lap. “There is one person who thinks you’re perfect as is.” He trails kisses down my neck. “Who doesn’t want you to change. Who would still kiss you if everything else in your life crumbled down.”

---