Tell Me It's Real(95)
“You boys taking off soon?” she asked with a knowing look.
“We’re getting out of here now,” Vince said, stepping away from the wall and grabbing my hand. “I still have to give Paul his birthday present.”
“Is that what they call it nowadays?” Helena asked. “Hopefully your present is big and wrapped.”
“Are you really giving me a safe-sex lecture disguised as innuendo?” I asked incredulously.
“Aren’t I fabulous?” She reached out and rubbed the riding crop against my face, then dragged it along Vince’s. “I just want to make sure my baby dolls are playing it safe. Did you know that, if need be, you could slice open a sandwich baggie to use as a dental dam?”
I gaped at her. “Please don’t ever say anything like that to me ever again.”
“Do you like to get rimmed, Vince?”
“Please don’t answer that question in public,” I begged him.
“You know, for someone who was just rutting against a wall, you are somewhat of a prude, sugar.”
“Sometimes,” Vince said with a shrug. “Depends on who is doing it.” Then he gave me a meaningful glance that could not be interpreted in any other way other than he would be totally okay if I tongued his butt. When one receives such a visual cue, one either runs with it or opens and closes ones mouth like a fish dying on dry land. Guess which one I did.
He leaned in and kissed me with his filthy, filthy mouth. “I’m going to go find Darren and say good-bye,” he said. “Be right back.”
Helena and I watched him go because it was such an awesome view. “Baby doll, I do believe you’re going to get plowed like a field around planting time,” she observed succinctly. “Gonna get seeded, that’s for damn sure.”
“Farming metaphors are not attractive,” I snapped at her.
“Don’t be jealous of my wit.”
“I don’t think jealous is the right word.”
“You okay, sugar?”
“Yes. No. Fuck! I don’t know!” Now that Vince was out of my sight, I was starting to panic a bit. “We’re about to go have sex!”
Helena grinned at me. “Usually that’s a cause for celebration. Or, at the very least, a modicum of happiness.”
“What if he wants to do it with the lights on?” I asked her, the scenarios turning horrifically in my mind. “With my shirt off?”
“Pretty sure that’s what sex is.”
“Have you seen my naked body?”
“A few times.”
“And have you seen his? Wait, don’t answer that.”
“I can imagine what it looks like.” She licked her lips. “And I have a very active imagination.”
I glared at her. “Then you know he’s all big and hot and ripped and muscular and sexy and hot.”
“That’s quite a list of adjectives.”
“And then there’s me.”
“Do you want some more adjectives? How about neurotic?”
“I’m being serious! He’s going to want to get naked and when he does, he’ll be all like, ‘Oh, hey, look at me. I just came from the gym and my abs are so rock hard and perfect and I have thighs of steel.’ And then I’ll get naked and be all like, ‘Oh hey, look at me. I just came from Denny’s and I look like I swallowed a baby.’”
“Well, if you are already thinking about swallowing babies, at least you’re on the right track,” she pointed out. Like a jerk.
“Helena!”
“Paul!”
“You’re not helping.”
“What do you want me to do?” she snapped. “I suppose I could say that Vince probably has a pretty good idea what you look like under there and he wants you anyway. I could tell you it doesn’t matter what you look like under there because you’re perfect just the way you are. I could tell you that out of everyone in the world, Vince has chosen you to fall in love with, though sometimes I wonder if it’s going to be worth it for him in the end, given how you’re doing nothing but bitching and moaning and trying to find ways to talk yourself out of the good that is right in front of you. I could tell you all of that, but then I would just be repeating myself because I’ve told you that time and time again. So, instead, I’ll just tell you to get over yourself before you fuck up the best thing that has ever happened to you and go get fucking laid. You get me?”
“Dude,” I said in awe. “You are like a fucking Amazonian princess right now.”
She was pleased. “Really? I was trying to be pretty scary.”
“I was very scared. Like, quaking in my boots scared. And I’m not even wearing boots.”