Page 59 of For Pleasure Or Worse

"Fuck." My voice cracked. The fog in the bathroom made me feel like I was floating on a cloud, and my head was swimming in it. My pulse echoed inside my ears so loud I couldn't hear anything but the sound of my own breathing returning to a regular tempo. I couldn't hear the door to my bedroom opening, or the rummaging around. I couldn't hear the first knock on the locked bathroom door or the second. But that third sounded like a battering ram in an FBI raid at four in the morning.

I yelped, sliding the toy from inside me, shelving it on the hanging caddy with shaking hands. "In the shower!" I shouted. My heartbeat reached a higher metronome than it had at my near climax. "Mateo?"

"It's Anna," a soft voice answered. “We’re back!”

"Can I…do you need something?" I panicked, squeezing my fists together.

"I'm going to run the laundry. Do you need anything cleaned before your trip tomorrow? I can grab some of this stuff off the floor."

Since my father’s birthday Anna had been noticeably more present in helping around the house with small tasks like dishes and laundry—the things she was privately on my case about before then. Maybe she felt sorry for me in a way that only seeing my family dynamic would bring out, and normally I would be more perceptive to it, but I was currently teetering on the edge of an orgasm and chatting through the bathroom door.

"No, no, no. No worries." I opened my mouth to scream but nothing came out. "I'll grab it."

"You're sure? I can take it off your plate."

I couldn't think of anything worse than my mother-in-law washing my thongs, until I remembered just how R-rated the rest of our bedroom was if you went looking hard enough. Did I leave that bedside drawer open? The one with the cuffs, cock rings, nipple clamps, and bullet vibrator?

God forbid she swung the closet open and saw the hidden wall of sticky notes and the content calendar and started asking unanswerable questions. I whipped the shower curtain back in a rush, hopping soaking wet out of the tub and onto the bathmat, hardly drying myself before wrapping my naked body in a very short threadbare towel and opening the door.

"I'm positive." I laughed nervously. Anna was looking over Mateo’s open suitcase skeptically. "He’s all packed, did it myself."

"He never packs enough?—"

"T-shirts, yeah. With Vegas weather in May, he's bound to sweat right through them."

"Exactly." She nodded. "Oh and also…"

"Advil, for inflammation. He tries to power through a hangover, but it's not the headaches that get him, it's the muscle pain."

Anna studied my face and a smile stretched across hers. "Right. Okie doke. If you need anything…"

"I know where to find you." I gave her an awkward thumbs-up and almost lost my towel.

She turned back the way she came, closing the door behind her, and I fell onto the bed with a deep, exhausted sigh. Not even the universe wanted me to get my rocks off.

Crisis averted though, I thought. For now.

chapter twenty

Natalia

It wasearly afternoon and stifling hot when we arrived in Vegas. The wheels of our suitcases rumbled against the pavement in front of our two-level, white stone villa. It was absolutely gorgeous, fenced in by high walls, and bracketed by a deep backyard where I could hear the pool water sloshing. We ambled up the pebbled driveway and let ourselves in the large wooden door leading to the side of the house. A massive in-ground pool lay in front of us alongside an outdoor bar dotted with stools, high-potted pampas grass plants decorating either end, and faux rocks that doubled as speakers stuffed into the backyard landscaping.

“Wow,” I breathed out, looking around. I stretched my stiff legs from the flight and the ride from the airport, more than ready to get out of my frumpy airplane clothes and into a bathing suit. Mateo wrapped an arm around my waist and slipped his hand into the back pocket of my jean shorts, giving my butt a short squeeze. I was determined to enjoy myself this weekend, no matter what. Part of that determination included having my way with my soon-to-be husband. I was going to suck the stress out of him if that was what it took. It had been nearly five months since we made a promise to each other to prioritize ourrelationship as a caveat to all the ensuing chaos. Three rules: safe word, keeping the spark alive, and hiding our sex work. Somehow the spark was left behind and needed to be reignited.

“You’re here!” The back door of the house opened and Ophelia popped her head outside with a giddy little laugh, and my heart instantly blossomed like a flower in spring. I dropped my bags where I stood and ran to hug her, hopping up and down like we were two lovers separated by war.

Mateo’s burly laugh echoed behind us and he pulled Ophelia into a bear hug of his own when we parted. “This place is impressive, O. I don’t know what I was expecting but it wasn’t this.”

“You only get married once.” She beamed, tickled by the praise. “There’s a hot tub around the side there, ping pong tables, an outdoor shower, and the mini fridge is completely stocked behind the bar.”

“I’m in heaven,” I said. “This is it, this is all I need for the rest of the weekend. I’m going to park my ass in that deck chair with a drink and wrinkle under the sun.”

Matty cleared his throat. “Pike around here somewhere?”

“Frankie!” Phee shouted. “Where are you guys?”

There was a fit of laughter from above that we all turned our attention to seconds before a massive body leapt from the deck protruding off the second floor with a war cry. The tight, muscular figure curled together and cannon-balled into the crystal blue water in front of us, leaving no time to protect ourselves before the resounding splash drenched Mateo, Ophelia, and me all at once.

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