Page 75 of Bonds of Shame, Bonds of Lust

"What do you mean, no?" I asked.

"No." She handed me a bikini. Navy blue, simple and elegant, and not even close to what I'd have chosen. The bottoms were cut high on the hips, lengthening the leg, showing far more skin than I was used to. The top was supportive and minimal, built to flatter rather than conceal.

"Janice."

"You have fantastic legs."

"That's not the point."

"It is absolutely the point."

I held the bikini up. I turned it over, looking for the rest of it. There was no rest of it. "There is barely enough fabric here to qualify as clothing."

"Exactly."

I stared at her. She stared right back.

Then I was carrying it to the register.

Back in the room, Janice stripped down, dropping her sundress over the back of the desk chair and stepping out of her panties like she'd been undressing in front of other women her whole life.

I'd seen most of her body before, in the club, in different lights and contexts. I'd told myself those were the contexts. The club had a context. The dance floor had a context. Janice's body in our cabin in the afternoon light, two feet from mine, didn't have a context. It was just there.

She was beautiful in a way I'd always pretended not to notice. Tall, lean, athletic, warm brown skin, small breasts that didn't need a bra, narrow waist, hips that came from working out.

The arousal went down through me before I'd noticed I was looking. The same place it had been for weeks.

She pulled a black string bikini out of her bag and put it on, talking about a panel discussion she wanted to catch tomorrow. The top was small enough that her nipples showed through the lining. She tied the strings behind her back without looking.

She caught me watching.

She didn't smile. She just kept talking.

I wasn't as shy as I used to be. The Second Circle had taken some of the shyness off me, and Ricardo had taken more, and what was left was a thinner crust than I'd realized. But there was still some crust. Stripping in a cabin in the afternoon, sober, with my best friend two feet away, felt strange. Not the club. Not a changing room. A bedroom. A bedroom with one bed in it.

I put the bikini on anyway, deciding to change with my back to my friend.

It was even smaller than I'd remembered. I turned to the mirror and my stomach fell.

"Ugh," I said out loud.

Janice came up behind me, taller in the glass, and her eyes found the problem right after mine did.

"It looks great on you," she said. Then, "Oh, yeah. I see the problem."

The bottom of the bikini was high-cut enough that the upper edge of my pubic hair was visible. I'd never thought about it. I'd never had to. Brad hadn't believed in waxing. I'd been a trim woman. I'd thought a trim woman was modern enough. Modern, it turned out, had moved. Nobody had sent me the memo. Nobody sent me any of the memos.

My cheeks reddened.

"Well, I can't wear this, Janice. I should've bought the first one I picked out."

"Nonsense, Lacey." She waved it off. "Just enter the modern world with the rest of us. Look, I brought my kit to touch up. It won't take fifteen minutes to have you ready to go."

"What are you talking about? Waxing? You're going to show me how to wax?"

Janice waved that away too. "No, silly, I don't need to teach you that. I can do it for you."

32 - THE LOTUS