“I think that’s abitdramatic,” Clarisse said. “Why is it anti-feminist to want to be tossed around?”
“Doesn’t it give men too much power?” Jane said.
“You’re assuming the man is doing the choking,” Hugo said.
Weston was back. “Honey, could I choke you during sex?” Jane asked.
Weston went to find the bathroom.
“It’s about power and trust,” Adonis said. “Dominance and submission. It isn’t aboutcontrolorhurtingsomeone. Though I suppose pain could be your kink. Sadism and masochism and all that. As long as it’s negotiated and consensual, why is that bad?”
“I agree,” Bash said. His voice was very deep. An action movie star, suave European spy voice. “The way you are talking about it is—ah, is this the word?—heteronormative.”
“In what European capital would one find a statue of the Little Mermaid?” Ms. Jizzle barked.
“Copenhagen,” Bash said without missing a beat. “I saw it when I was four.” He turned to Jane. “I think choking during sex is hot. I am dominant in the bedroom. I like to choke or spank my partners, and toys are fun, too. That does not mean I do notcarefor my partners. It is about trust, no? It is about the exchange of power. The dominant partner gets sexual gratification from the exercise of physical power over the submissive partner. The submissive partner, however, is also showing a level of power, too, no? They have power over the dominant partner because of how they have surrendered. Just because I might pin my sexual partner’s hands above his head while I fuck him does not mean that I do not respect him.”
Adonis suddenly needed a fan, a tall glass of water, and a fainting couch.
“He’s European,” Robbie offered the table. “He doesn’t have American puritanical boundaries about talking about sex.”
“And why would I?” Bash said. “Sex is a very human thing. What do you say here? Birds do it, bees do it?”
Adonis needed air. He grabbed the paper on which Bash had scrawled “Copenhagen” for their answer. “I’ll take this up,” he said.
“No,” Bash said. “Sit. I’ll do it.”
It was silent around the booth. Adonis sat with a thump. He swallowed. Bash gently took the slip of paper, his long fingers brushing Adonis’s. Adonis’s pulse pounded, and he wondered if the others could hear it.
Bash stood in a powerful, fluid motion. The muscles of his shoulders, chest, and back stretched his T-shirt. His pants molded to the muscular curves of his ass and thick thighs as he walked with the steadiness of a prowling lion to Ms. Jizzle, who tittered when he handed her the paper.
“Well fuck me,” Hugo said. “Heisdominant.”
Chapter 4
Adonis
“You seem distracted. What’s on your mind?” It was the third time Anamária had said something like that to Adonis during the filmed session. She was recording his free skate and critiquing it. They were squeezing in some moments on the ice between his Social Philosophy class and the hockey team’s scheduled practice. The Cranberry Cup was in three days.
“You have to focus,” Anamária repeated. She handed him his water bottle. Frustration was evident on her face. “Where’s your head?”
In the bar with the very hot Dutch hockey player who had the voice and body of a Nordic god, he could’ve said. Instead: “I’m not distracted. I’m focused.”
“The Cranberry Cup is important. As youwellknow, U.S. Skate will be watching this and watchingyou. Your performance could determine if you’re picked for Team USA or not.”
The Olympics. Anamária’s goal for him. Therefore, it was his goal for himself.
He took a swig of water. “I know. I’m focused. I’ll do better. I promise.”
“I’ve told you to fix your landing twice. You haven’t fixed it.”
“I will.” He returned the water bottle. “I promise.”
“Don’t promise. Show me.”
Adonis gave his mother a curt nod and returned to the ice. This time, his landings were perfect.
——
