Published: November 5th 2024, 12:00:02 pm
I didn't see much of Edward after that, though I thought I glimpsed him a couple of times across the room. I didn't have any more sex that night, but I met some more of Missy's guests and tried my hand at flirting. Normally in a club, the guys wouldn't look twice at me, but here—whether it was because Missy had made it clear she was taking me under her wing or there was simply something in the air—I was interesting. It felt good for a change to be noticed, however superficial I knew it was. I got to give a body oil massage of my own, enjoying the delicious sensation of the lubricant warming under my palms. And when the guy Sharon had pointed out earlier had been hogtied on the carpet, surrounded by a pile of pillows, I joined in with the others in tickling him with his own feathers.
Around one in the morning, people started to trickle out. By two, it was only a small fraction of the original party left. The playlist had run out, though lights continued to flicker and play across Missy's apartment.
Not wanting to overstay my welcome, and feeling my exhaustion catch up to me as a physical weight pressing down on my shoulders and eyelids, I started to gather up my stuff to go. I didn't relish the idea of the long subway ride home at this hour. I'd probably have to give in and take a cab or an Uber, even though it was sure to be prohibitively expensive.
I was headed toward Paul to get my phone when I heard Missy's voice. "Mal, are you going home?"
I turned. Missy and Thomas were entangled on the carpeted floor with a few of Missy's other friends. They all had a sleepy but satiated, milk-fed look about them. Missy was absently stroking Thomas's arm with her fingertips, her eyes fixed on me.
"Yeah, it's getting late and I should be heading back," I said, forcing my tired brain to produce a coherent response. "This was really something, though... Thanks for the invite."
"Why don't you stay over? There's plenty of room. Grab yourself a blanket and a pillow."
"I...don't know," I said slowly. The idea of just dropping to sleep right here seemed tempting, even though... My eyes flickered over the naked bodies of the people who remained. Most had collapsed into post-coital contentment, but there was still at least one couple energetically going at it in the corner by the windows. I could hear their soft grunts and pants.
"Oh, don't be a prude," Missy admonished in exasperation, noticing the direction of my gaze. "You look like you're about to fall asleep on your feet. Come on..." Missy extended an arm out towards me, a beckoning queen at home in her palace. "Join us..."
"You win," I finally relented, smiling ruefully. After all, I hadn't refused Missy yet. Why stop now, especially when she was telling me the very words I wanted to hear?
❖❖❖
It was a weird and slightly disorienting sensation to wake up Sunday morning curled up on Missy's couch like a teenager at a sleepover. It took me a few moments to remember the full events of the night before. I sat up slowly, the soft fleece blanket that I'd scavenged falling down to my waist.
The sound and smells of someone cooking eggs sharply redirected my attention to the kitchen, clearing the last of my brain fog. Thomas, shirtless in jeans with sex-tousled hair, was making breakfast.
"That smells amazing," I said fuzzily, rising to my feet. Thomas flashed a grin at me.
"Thanks." Thomas returned his attention to the stove in front of him while I searched for my phone. Paul was long-gone. I found the bag of phones on the counter, the plastic bag smeared with chocolate. Only a handful of phones were left, and I was grateful to find my phone still in working order.
It was almost one in the afternoon.
"Holy shit," I mumbled.
Someone had pulled down the shades in the living room, casting the open space in a sort of early morning gloom. Needing to confirm with my own eyes, I made my way to the windows, barefoot. I drew up the shades and the full force of the midday sun blasted me where I stood.
"Holy shit," I said again.
The rain and the clouds had gone. The day was utterly pristine. The view from Missy's apartment yielded a seemingly unending landscape of steel, brick and sky. Up as high as we were, the buildings seemed so small and distant. The people and cars on the streets below were insignificant little dots. In the time that I had lived in the city, I had never been so high. I had never thought I was one to be impressed by a view, but at that moment, I was speechless. It took me a moment to recollect my senses and turn away.
"Where is Missy?" I asked Thomas.
"She's taking a shower," Thomas said. "She'll be out soon."
My eyes flickered off in the direction of the master bedroom that Edward had mentioned last night. "Ah."
Thomas's lips thinned into a grim, humorless smile as he caught my expression. "There are always some idiots who make a mess where they're not supposed to. They won't be invited back." I shivered a little at the cold promise in his words. Despite the studied indifference of Missy's guests, I sensed that they highly coveted their memberships in her book club.
I watched Thomas neatly remove a sunny side-up egg and deposit it onto a plate. One-handed, he cracked a second egg straight into the pan. I shook my head; was there anything he couldn't do?
I rejoined Thomas and slid into a seat at the counter, pushing aside empty glasses and bottles. "What would it take for you to make one for me?"
"You could ask, for one."
"Oh, okay. Could you please make me a sunny side up?" I batted my eyelashes for extra measure, and Thomas, despite rolling his eyes at me, was as good as his word. As he cooked in front of me, I opened my mouth, then hesitated. "Can I ask you something?" I asked him shyly.
"Yeah."
"What's it like, being up there with Missy in front of everyone? Do you ever get self-conscious?"
Thomas tilted his head, considering my question. "No, not really. I'm only thinking about Missy, and what it is that she wants. The audience is only relevant as far as how they respond drives Missy's next move."
"And yet you play them so well," I murmured. Having had the opportunity to watch Thomas, first in the Hamptons and then again last night, I was beginning to understand why he was so good at what he did. He was so much more than an attractive, pliable prop to Missy's whims. I didn't doubt the sincerity of his response, but I suspected that at some level, he was very aware of how every stutter, every hitched breath would be received. It was easy to overlook what he was doing because it was so understated compared to everyone's performances around him, but he wielded everyone's desire with an almost alarming degree of control. All to please Missy and keep her attention directed on him.
Thomas grinned at me. "Stop, now you're making me blush." He glanced down at the pan. "Eggs are done. Did you want toast with that?"
Not all of Missy's sleepover guests stayed for lunch. A few ducked out politely, while a couple more joined us as they awoke. We ended up eating on mismatched dishware in Missy's living room. There was something particularly convivial about eating eggs and toast in the middle of a gorgeous Manhattan apartment after a night of seeing each other naked just hours before. Even as I marveled at the circumstances that had brought us together, it felt like the most natural thing in the world to be sitting there with people I had just met, trading gossip and teasing one another over the antics from the night before.
Missy came out just as I was gathering my things to leave. Freshly showered, she was clad in a loose, oversized shirt and ripped jeans, and her face was bare of any make up. She still looked beautiful, and I felt an emotion stir in my chest that was part envy, part awe. When she saw me, she quickly jogged over to walk me to the door.
"What did you think?" Missy wanted to know.
"It was like a mad dream," I said honestly, and Missy laughed.
"You are hilarious." Missy dropped me a wink as I stepped out into the hallway. "See you at the next one."