"Nnnn..." I wake to the tantalizing sensation of his tongue moving between my legs. He teasingly suctions my still-swollen lips before dipping his tongue in, licking and flicking, making me moan. "Mmm... my love... I'm sor–aaaahhh..."
His face no longer buried between my legs, his Greek god-like body hovers above me as he slowly slides his hardness in. I bite my lip and clutch the sheets, the soreness mingling with the pleasure radiating through me. He lets me taste myself from his lips, then thrusts his tongue in rhythm with his careful entry, before extracting himself just as deliberately.
"I'm sore too," he admits, gently driving us both toward release. My entire body convulses beneath his just as he fills me, moments after my insides tighten around him. My legs wrap around him as he presses against me, propping himself up on his elbows. I've never felt more lost than when I look into his equally bewildered eyes. Our heartbeats slowly sync as his pulsating hardness remains buried deep within me.
Overwhelmed, I'm not sure if I'm dreaming. When his nose touches mine, he starts to pull away, but my legs instinctively hold him in place. The right corner of his lip lifts into a smirk, a twinkle in his eyes. He lowers his face until our breaths mingle, and in a low voice, he asks, "Will I ever have enough of you?"
My eyes flutter in a haze, and I wonder the same. His breath brushes my left ear. "Tell me you love me, Ace."
"What?"
The tip of his nose slip along the side of my face as he whispers, "Say it, and I'll give you whatever you want."
What's he saying?! "I love you even if you don't give me what I want. I love you regardless."
A growing grin forms on his lips before he gets off me and heads to the shower. I lie there, overwhelmed, frozen under his spell, listening to the sound of the water shutting off and the toothbrush brushing against his teeth. He strolls out, quickly drying himself with a large, plush towel. Standing in front of the sliding mirrored closet, he puts on and buttons his black dress shirt, his eyes fixate on my reflection.
His semen is still seeping out of me, and yet, watching him get dressed makes me instinctively close my legs as my insides contract, as if in response to a phantom memory of him. He smirks at my reflection in the mirror, his eyes roaming over my body, claiming every inch with his gaze. As soon as his Patek Philippe Nautilus watch clasps around his wrist, I know what's coming next. He grabs his phone and leaves.
He won't text or call. I don't know when we'll meet next, but somehow I know we will. I'm too sore and tired to move, so I stay still.
###
"What do you mean, 'not anymore?'" James looks surprised by my announcement.
"I just don't feel like it anymore," I clarify, explaining why I no longer want to attend orgy parties and go to swing clubs.
"What's changed?" Beth asks, her hand hovering over the fork next to the chopsticks, as if unsure which to use.
"Nothing," I say, feeling my cheeks flush.
"Mr. Silence," Anat says, waving to the waiter.
"Who?" Valentina asks, taking a sip from her teacup.
"Prince Charming. Monogamous. Walking red flags in fancy clothes," Karla summarizes before trying to fit an entire chicken leg into his mouth.
"Maybe not. He can't be that bad if Ace is this ridiculously happy," Anat defends while still trying to get one of the waiter's attention. This traditional Chinese restaurant in Chinatown, like most stereotypical Asian restaurants, doesn't have the best service. I tense up under the pressure of their focused attention. The round table with five pairs of eyes on me at the family-style restaurant reminds me too much of how most dining experiences are with my family.
"Beth, use the fork," Valentina says, putting the utensil in Beth's hand.
"I can use chopsticks," Beth protests.
Valentina rolls her eyes. "Not if you want to eat tonight."
"Excuse me, can we get some water, please?" Anat yells over our heads, trying to get the attention of any wait staff.
I'm glad it wasn't my idea to eat here. It was actually Karla's. I get up, approach the nearest waiter, and use my Chinese to ask for ice water and more forks.
"Is it a racist thing? Do they only serve Chinese speakers?" Anat asks when I come back to the table.
"I don't know, love. I think they're usually blunt and straightforward in any language."
"Probably a cultural thing," James adds.
I throw my hands in the air, admitting defeat as I sit. Even though I grew up in China, I don't know enough to comment.
Karla leans onto the table toward Anat, who's sitting across the table from him. "I don't like Mr. Silence. Why are you on his side now?"
"Can we talk about something else? Or someone else?" I plead.
"When's the last time you've seen her this happy?" Anat counters.
"But he's toxic," Karla says.
"No one's toxic if you know how to handle them. We're all toxic to somebody," Anat continues to defend me.
"She's––" Karla starts, but is interrupted by Tina Turner singing "What's Love Got to Do with It" as his ringtone. "Shit. That's my mom." He scrambles out of his seat, rushing to take the call away from the noise.
"Not even swing clubs?" James turns back to me.
"Let it go, James. A girl can make up her mind and change it whenever she wants," Valentina steps in to rescue me.
"Is it because of him?" James presses on, refusing to drop the topic.
"No... I think I've had enough casual sex for a while," I explain.
"So it's not casual sex with him?" James asks.
Beth pauses, mid-bite with her fork poking a piece of broccoli. Valentina stops reaching for the chicken, turning to look at me. Anat's eyes widen as she pinches her lips across the table.
"It's... more..." for me, maybe casual for him. They're still waiting when I glance at each of them. "It doesn't matter. I don't want to go to swing clubs or orgy parties for now."
"Deflection," Beth says.
"Denial," Valentina adds.
I lock eyes with Anat and pout. She gets the hint and says, "It really doesn't matter though. As long as she's having good quality sex and are happy, who cares if it's casual sex or more,"
"I'm worrying about the monogamous part," James says.
"Is the sex good?" Karla returns and jumps in.
I nod rapidly, confidently. Satisfied, they resume eating dinner. The waiter comes back with a jug of ice water for the table and forks that everyone reaches for.
###
"Where's the money coming from?" Wei asks. He doesn't know about my PI work.
Grinning widely, I say, "I sold my kidney."
His disapproving eyes make me uncomfortable, even in my own room, as he stands under my bedroom's doorframe staring at me with his arms crossed. Sometimes I wonder if Min-Jun, my younger brother, and I stole all the sense of humor DNA from this family.
Shifting in my desk chair, I correct myself, "Work."
"What sort of work?" He's as probing as he was when we were kids.
"Self-employed, art stuff. You're a Certified Public Accountant. You'll think of something." Wei is two years older than me, but lately, he acts like he's my dad. It's funny because I used to beat him up so much growing up, it feels like I should be the one acting as his mom instead.
"It doesn't work that way." He's staring me down.
"What's the problem? Do we have too much money or too little?"
"Money isn't the problem. The origin—"
"I see. So we have too much money that's unaccounted for. I can hack into MM Banki—"
Wei leaves. I go back to my diary.