The Promise of Lace (11 page)

“Roxanne.” He set his hand over mine. “You were trying to
make me feel good, weren’t you? Turn me on and get me off?”

“Yes.”

“Then I’m okay with it. Plus it’s…” He heaved out a breath
and rolled his eyes up to the ceiling. “I don’t want to really go full Ricki
Lake on this, but… being… in control in a sexy way wasn’t her MO. We never
would have done what you and I did last night—because I did get off on it. And
I still kind of hate this, but that’s one of the reasons that I like a woman
who can take control in bed now.
Because it’s another one of
those things that I just get to like for myself now.”

I nodded, absorbing that. I’d think about it in more detail
later. Maybe even hash it over with Hailey. I was, and had always been, in full
support of a guy who had no problem giving in
in
bed,
and I had learned that in the Internet Pornography era it was damn hard to find
a guy who could be into being a submissive without wanting a van’s worth of
equipment involved and at least one kink that should give decent person the
heebie
jeebies
.

I wasn’t exactly in love with the
reason
that Dieter got off on it, but despite the sex and
confessions, we didn’t know each other all that well yet. It was too early on
to be making assumptions about how he would react to things or what he would
like.

“Plus… you know. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice…”
He shrugged. “I have hard-won good instincts now. If I had asked you to stop,
you would have stopped.
Right?”

His face was oddly still as he asked that. I would have
expected the confidence of a declaration, or maybe the vulnerability of a man
asking for confirmation, but he was just waiting.

“Of course I would have,” I assured him. The side of his
mouth quirked upward, still only half a smile, but more than it had been.

“See?” he said. He shook his head like a dog after it
climbed out of a lake.
“Anyway.
Let’s lighten up a
little here. Would you rather be a rich action movie star or a respected
dramatic actor?”

I smiled back, sipped more coffee. We both picked an ‘option
c’. Dieter wanted to be the well-liked scriptwriter; I wanted to be the beloved
comedienne.

We ate. We chatted. He loaded the dishwasher while I brushed
my teeth. I showed him some of my sketches and a couple of posters that I had
designed and still had lying around. I let myself get sucked into making out on
the couch for half an hour before I finally, officially had to kick him out so
I could work.

A little bit of making out had to be done at the door as
well, as it turned out. I finally pushed him away, but kept my fingers knotted
in his shirt. “No, I’m serious, I have to work now. I really mean it.”

“Okay,” he kissed me, pulled back like he was really going
to leave this time then kissed me again. “Okay, I’m leaving.”

He didn’t. He brought his lips back down to mine again and
cleared his throat. “You’re really okay with what I told you… right?”

I liked my lips and stepped just a little closer.
“Yeah.
Dieter.
I’m really fine.”

“I know it’s… a lot to drop on someone right up front like
this.”

“I get why you had to tell me though. It’s alright.” I
tugged at his shirt again. “And I get the impression that you just scratched
the surface too.”

“Oh yeah,” he admitted ruefully. “Very…
surface
on the big heavy crap.
With the panties
and the abuse and all.”
He scoffed and kissed me, holding his large
palms around my waist. “I’ll try and save the really evil stuff for at least
the third date.”

His topic was heavy, but his tone was light, so I smiled and
leaned into his body. “Excellent.”

“Umm… speaking of a third date.”
He cleared his throat again.
“There is this thing at the Art Institute that I wanted to go to. Is that
something I could talk you into?”

“Yeah.
Absolutely,” I answered. I liked his
tendency to schedule a new date at the end of every ending one. It made me feel
like he couldn’t wait to see me again.

“Are you free tonight?”

“Yeah, actually, I am.”

“I’ll pick you up?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

I kissed him again and pushed him out the door before I
could get swept into some sort of ridiculous, in person version of “no, you
hang up” and was forced to just throw up all over myself.

It was a pretty normal day. I cleaned up more than I usually
would. Listened to my music a little louder, but all in all it was ordinary.

Hailey dropped by around five to see if I wanted to go out
for dinner. Noah was at some sort of pick-up football thing at the park.

“Are you serious?” I asked as she dropped down onto my
couch. “We’re already going out to eat like every weekend. Shouldn’t we
lay
off?”

She grabbed a thin piece of glossy paper out of her jacket
pocket. “I have a coupon for artichoke dip.”

“Tempting though splitting a small cheese appetizer with you
is, I’ve got a date.” I started pretending to tidy up around my apartment, so
that I didn’t get sucked into sitting down with her. If I did, then Hailey
would be able to convince me to go out to dinner with her when I had work to do
and a third date dress to pick out.

Hailey perked up. “Are you going out with Dieter again?”

I nodded and started ferrying dishes from the coffee table
back into the kitchen. She threw her arms upward like she had just scored a
touchdown and woo-ed loudly.

“Three dates in a week, huh?” she laughed. “Am I seeing a
double date in our future? Is the Great and Single Roxanne on the verge of
joining us poor peasants in
coupledom
?”

I stuck my tongue out at her. “He invited me to an
installation at the Art Institute that I wanted to see anyway and I’m too old
to be playing coy.”

“Uh-huh. And how is he in bed?” she asked.

“Interesting,” I replied.
“Attendant.
Conscientious.”

Hailey slapped her thigh. “Good for you.”

“I mean, we’ve just been fooling around.”

“Oh, like you need to justify yourself to
me.”

I opened my mouth to ask Hailey if she had ever… well.
Any of it.
Had Noah cross dress.
Done a ruined orgasm.
Dated a guy who had
been abused.

But she hadn’t. She had been with Noah almost as long as I
had known her and she told me everything.
Usually too much.

She had noticed my hesitation. “Roxanne? What is it?”

“Yeah.
Just…” I wasn’t sure how to put this.
“I’m a little worried about how much I like this guy already.”

Hailey snorted and the level of actual derision in it was a
little surprising.
“Poor you.
A gorgeous muscular man
is taking you out over and over again and you’re enjoying yourself.
The horror.”

“It’s just gotten weirdly serious.”

“Weirdly serious how?”
Hailey sighed.

I dithered for a moment, but Hailey was my best friend and
she was going to keep asking me until I gave in anyway.
“Deep
dark confessions serious.”

Hailey made the annoying sucking noise between her teeth
that she always made when she was thinking. “Deep dark like “I murdered my
grandmother with an axe” or like “I once auditioned for
The Real World
and I almost got in?”

“He’s not old enough to have auditioned for the
The
Real World
.” I pointed out.

Hailey barked out a laugh.
“Right.”

“
We
are barely old
enough to have auditioned for
The
Real
World.”

Carefully folding her coupon and sticking it back in her
pocket, Hailey nodded. “So, what did he deeply, darkly confess to you?”

I set down the mugs I had been carrying in the sink, turned
back toward the living room and leaned against the counter. “Um…okay. He wears
lacy bikini cut panties.”

“Seriously?”
Hailey leaned forward over
the back of the couch, suddenly all ears. “Like…on the regular, or just to
impress you?”

“It’s something he does. He likes them. They are just what
he wears.”

“Was he wearing them when you guys did it?” Hailey asked,
suddenly fascinated.

I briefly described fooling around with Dieter, probably in
more detail than I should have, but sometimes I could not resist trying to
out-sex story Hailey.

“Impressive, Roxanne.
Definitely
impressive.
But so obviously only part of the story.”
She pouted at me, just a little, shaming me for withholding information from
her
.
“Okay,” I sighed.
“Fine.
Dieter… Dieter was really
terribly abused by an ex-girlfriend.”

Hailey’s expression froze for a moment,
then
narrowed. “Wait.
Really?
Does that happen to guys?”

“Hailey, come on. We didn’t get that deep into it, but the
little he said was… really creepy. She basically owned him. He had to sell his
computer and drop out of college and run away across the country to get away
from her.”

“And he told you all about this after you went all
dominatrix on him, huh?”

“I did not go all dominatrix,” I defended myself. “We played
a little sex game. He said he was fine with it. It’s not like I asked him to
give me his phone and locked him in his room.”

“Is that what he said she did?” Hailey’s tone was skeptical
at best.

“I’m extrapolating, but that was the gist.”

“Right.
Okay,” Hailey sighed. “Do you think
that’s something that you can deal with?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” I wasn’t mad, not yet, and
god knows that I dished things like this out for people so I should be expected
to be able to take it too, but I could just tell Hailey was going to push me
here.

“Honey, look....This isn’t really the type of thing that you
are equipped to fit into your day to day. If this boy is using a story like
this on you, it’s too bad that you already seem like you bought into the ‘poor
little me, I’m damaged so I should be able to get away with things’ lie, and on
the off chance he’s serious, and really, he’s six four and three feet across,
how abused could he possibly have gotten, you’re not the kind of person who can
fix psychological wounds like that and we all know it.”

“I don’t have to fix his psychological wounds, Hailey. I’m
not his shrink. It’s been two dates. We had fun, we had chemistry. We’re not
getting married and moving into a yurt in Colorado together.”

“Yurt?”

“I mean we’re not… each other’s whole world. He’s not even
my boyfriend. We’re dating.”

“You once dumped a guy because his dog never stopped
farting. You always act like your life is some elaborate house of cards that
any even slightly human guy will knock down with his inconvenient existence. If
this abuse thing is even true, do you think you can really find a place for it
in your relationship?”

“You’re being really weird about this, Hailey.”

She threw up her hands again, this time not in celebration.
“Well… it’s a weird story.”

“I’m not fighting with you about a guy. We’re not the Real
Housewives of Where-in-the-Hell. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Are you mad at me now?” Hailey demanded.

I shrugged and sighed. “Not mad.
Annoyed
though.”

She stood up, and shrugged. “Sorry. I’m just trying to
help.” She took the coupon back out of her pocket. “Will this make it up to
you?”

I chuckled. “No. Go enjoy your free dip. I’ll talk to you
later.”

Hailey patted my arm apologetically and left. She wasn’t
completely wrong.
 
I wasn’t Florence
Nightingale. I thought she was being pretty closed-minded about whether or not
guys were as susceptible to abuse as women, and there was no doubt in my mind
that Dieter had told me the total and absolute truth, but I couldn’t deny that
I didn’t do great with baggage.

And everybody knew that.

Chapter Nine

Dieter and I had somehow wound up at the Art Institute
during a bizarre convergence of other people’s events. The main lobby was
overrun with Red Hat Ladies, all laughing cheerfully. A few of them were
pointing to random pieces as they walked, particularly the nudes, and bursting
into the loud giggles of older women who were simply out of fucks to give.

There was also a relatively large conglomeration of women in
expensive suits and too-high heels. The crowd was filled out with raggedy
students who had clearly come to college in Minneapolis from much smaller towns
and hadn’t figured out how to dress up as though they were adults yet. They
stood out in a crowd split otherwise evenly between eccentrically dressed older
women and impeccably dressed young professional women.