“While you were rubbing coconut oil all over your body.”
“I did what?” he asks, clearly not remembering that little erotic demonstration.
“You said it was so you wouldn’t get sunburned,” I say with a smile. It was in fact the dead of night, but he couldn’t be argued out of it.
“You should have stopped me,” he chides, feeling embarrassed by that of all things.
“Why would I? You looked sexy as hell. A couple of guys blew their loads poolside just watching you. I’ll need to hose down the concrete to prevent any unwanted pregnancies.”
“Last night was crazy. What I remember at least. Were you the only one who fucked me?”
“Yeah, there was a bidding war going for a while, but I remained strong.”
“How much did it get up to?” he asks because he is conceited through and through.
“It was a thousand dollars before I finally had to shut it down.”
“That’s pretty good.”
“Definitely higher than the standard going rate for ass.”
He beams with pride, and his phone vibrates on the nightstand, disrupting the quiet. Adam glances at the screen and groans.
“Who is it?” I ask.
“Elliot. He’s been bugging me to pose for him again. I meant to tell you.”
Elliot Anderson is obsessed with my boyfriend. Well, who can blame him? Despite the caustic barbs he’ll likely aim in my direction and the poisonous things he’ll say about me behind my back, the idea of Elliot photographing and even painting Adam does have some appeal.
“You should do it,” I tell him. Flaunting Adam in front of casual club friends is fun, but how much more fun would it be to fuck him in front of my rival? That sort of game will entertain me for days. How I relish the opportunity to prove to Elliot he’s just as depraved as me. “But he’ll have to work here where I can supervise,” I add.
“I could have had sex with Elliot a long time ago, and I didn’t,” Adam says with a pout.
“I trust you, Adam, of course I do. It’s them.” I motion to the world at large. “And besides, that was before you were mine. He can work out of the pool house. Hell, he can even stay out there for all I care, so long as he doesn’t disturb us.”
“You really mean it?” he asks, managing to look both hopeful and suspicious.
“Sure. I’d like to have a portrait of you made, and when inspired, Elliot does a pretty decent job. Invite him over for drinks tonight, and I’ll discuss it with him then.”
“Okay, I’ll call him.” He lifts his phone to punch in the number, and I stay his hand.
“After you eat your breakfast.”
* * *
Elliot arriveson my doorstep that same evening wearing a wrinkled, ill-fitting shirt and a sneer. “What do you want?” he snaps, as if it’s me standing on his doorstep.
“Good evening, Elliot. Welcome to my home,” I say, because I wasn’t raised by wolves. I step away from the open door and gesture for him to come inside.
“Where’s Adam?” he asks, as surly and unpleasant as ever.
“Adam’s running an errand. But no matter, it was me who wanted to speak with you.”
“You?” His eyes skirt over the four corners of the room as if I might have some thugs waiting to chloroform and kidnap him. I’ve never been physically combative with Elliot. Our rivalry has always been limited to the intellectual realm.
“I asked Adam to invite you here tonight because I have a proposition for you, if you’d care to hear it.”
He comes inside at last, and I lead him to the bar where he perches like a pigeon on a stool, posture high and tight as if there’s a giant dildo shoved up his scrawny ass.
