The Opposite of Love (9 page)

“So what did you think of it? Tying her up and choking her?”

“Wasn’t really my thing.”

“I see.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Melanie was swirling her chardonnay, watching the legs crawl down the sides of the glass, deep in thought about this new side of Derek, the sexually experienced Derek. Perhaps kinky even.

“So I take it you’ve either been already or you’re thinking about going,” he said.

“He wants to go this weekend. I’m nervous. I worry about people seeing me and knowing who I am.”

“If that’s all you’re worried about, definitely go. It’s wild. And if they can see you, you can see them too.”

“That’s what James said.”

“Smart guy. Can’t wait to meet him.”

“Hah!”

When Melanie finished her second glass of chardonnay she ordered water. It was almost one a.m. and she’d need to drive soon.

“Have you been here much since we met?” Derek asked.

“Once or twice I think. Still reminds me of that night though.” She smiled at him and he rubbed her upper arm.

“Shall we end it the same way tonight?” he asked.

Her smile disappeared. She had expected the invitation, but she hadn’t realized that there was a dilemma involved until it presented itself. She was dating James now, and they’d both established that they weren’t seeing other people. Semantically, she wasn’t “seeing” Derek, so there was a loophole there. But she knew she and James had both meant sex as well when they’d had the discussion. So in this moment, in the face of this invitation, Melanie was forced to decide what kind of relationship she wanted to have. If she wanted something casual, she could do whatever she wanted, as long as she gave James the same freedom. But if she wanted to have a serious relationship, she could no longer sleep with Derek. It seemed a surprisingly cruel loss to endure.

“Let me guess,” he said, sparing her the explanation. “You and James are monogamous?”

“Yeah,” she said, her tone full of regret. “We are.”

“Hey, don’t be bummed about it. This is really great news,” he said. “That means things are going well, right?”

She smiled at him. Ever the optimist. Silver linings and unicorns.

“I would say things are going well so far, yes. Ask me again after the Green Door.”

He laughed. “I will. Can’t wait to hear all about it.”

They left the bar and headed toward the front door, but James pulled her into a small room to the back of the lobby. “Ever been in here?” he said.

There were four wooden pews on either side of a short aisle that led to an elevated platform. Six paintings hung on the wall of the tiny room.

“No. What is this, a chapel?”

“Yep. They do weddings here.”

Drifting slowly around the room, Melanie studied the artwork. The paintings were in the style of 16
th
century Renaissance art, replete with wistful women and wise infants.

In one, a baby reached its hands greedily toward the mother, while looking at the viewer with knowing accusation; Melanie found herself a bit creeped out by it. In another, a mother held a child in her lap and a cherubic cupid stood on the floor to her right pulling her attention completely away from the infant. But the one that drew Melanie’s attention hung just inside the door of the chapel. A young woman, naked from the waist up, pushed an armed cupid forcefully away from her. The cupid held his arrow expertly, with the coordinated hand of a grown man, the tip of his forefinger against the shaft, aiming it at the woman’s heart. Her hands were on his shoulders, elbows locked out, fending him off. It seemed a strange choice for a chapel, but then they all did.

“You like that one?” Derek asked.

“It’s odd, don’t you think?”

Derek shrugged. “Who do you think wins?”

“Tough to say, since the cupid has the advantage of not being real and therefore not held to the rules of reality.”

“So he’s got tricks?”

“Probably.”

Derek laughed. He walked Melanie to her car in the self-parking area and hugged her close, not letting her go after the usual three seconds. “Just because you’re in a relationship now doesn’t mean you have to be a stranger, ok?”

“Ok,” she said. “I’ll call. We’ll have lunch or something. Like normal people.”

Derek laughed and kissed her on the forehead. She got into her SUV and waved to him as she pulled out.

He mouthed to her, “Be safe.”

Manipulation is to make a statement solely for the effect it will have on a person, good or bad. It will often also be a lie, but that is irrelevant.

—Melanie Leon

Chapter Six

Living in Las Vegas, there was always time and opportunity to participate in the debauchery—later. Much like those who live in Southern California don’t go to Disneyland every weekend, or New Yorkers don’t go visit the Statue of Liberty, the temptations of Vegas were something that would always be there.

Growing up, Melanie suspected that there was more to do in Las Vegas compared to other major cities—especially if one was willing to go to the Strip, which for locals wasn’t often the case. Even as an adult she avoided the Strip unless there were family members visiting from Illinois or there was a new show she wanted to see. Most locals were the same way.

Off-strip and in the suburbs there were smaller casinos strewn all over the valley, if that was your thing, but there were also plenty of parks in which a child could play and trails where the family could ride their bikes without worrying about traffic. There was Red Rock Canyon where Melanie developed her love of mountains and rock formations and hiking. And on-strip, the Circus-Circus casino provided a family environment with kid-friendly entertainment—enough, in fact, to keep a child occupied for days. But the casino atmosphere was like Chuck E. Cheese on steroids. Her sisters loved it, but it had made Melanie’s head spin with all the lights and noises and acrobats flying overhead, and she often was the first to tire of it and seek the comfort of a parental lap.

As a teen, Melanie and her friends had access to trouble that made it seem an unimaginative endeavor. Fake IDs were cheap and easy to get and often unnecessary; back then, the casinos would kick teens out, but many neighborhood bars wouldn’t card if a group of teens were known to tip well and didn’t get too drunk. The drugs of the day were pot, mushrooms and LSD. Melanie was adventurous enough to try them all but didn’t care for the feeling of being out of control. Even when it came to drinking, two was her usual limit.

And while Las Vegas shared the same drugs the rest of the country enjoyed, its politics and social climate were markedly behind the times. The hippies and liberals of neighboring California might as well have been on Mars, as Vegas was still holding on to the last threads of its Wild West phase and all the crime that came with it. The criminal element was glaringly apparent at lower levels, and back-of-the-house on higher planes. But there was still an elevated mystery and classiness and unadulterated capitalism associated with the upper echelon of criminal activity that made crime at any level more attractive to the poor and uneducable. The result was that more than a few of Melanie’s classmates had been arrested and imprisoned on charges ranging from breaking and entering to armed robbery to kidnapping for ransom, the effect of which wasn’t the usual wide-eyed gossiping of teenagers, but rather the head-shaking bewilderment of the bored.

Stripping was another pitfall that tempted Melanie’s classmates; it was tough to work at the mall for minimum wage when your best friend was making hundreds of dollars in one night. But it was an obvious trap to Melanie; these girls would never make that much money—not in any legitimate way—unless they got an education. And they were unlikely to get an education because they were too busy making money. Thirty would come soon enough, and it would be harder on some than on others, but all of their options would be limited. Some would get creative and use the strip clubs as a storefront for prostitution. More than a few would feel the time closing in like a fist and zero in on a customer who could provide the lifestyle she wanted and marry him. And still others would dance on the line between the two, accumulating multiple “boyfriends” that they saw outside the club and had sex with. These men paid their bills, bought them gifts, and gave them monthly allowances. Of course this was the most complicated of the schemes, and boyfriends were known to end up in strip club parking lots brawling over their mutual girl.

However, of all the sins available to her as a child of Vegas, stripping held the greatest lure. It wasn’t about the money; her mother actually gave her more allowance than she ever spent. It was the dare of it, the exhibitionism, the confidence required. She had always drawn a few looks in a bikini, but going topless? Onstage? In front of strangers? That meager piece of fabric covering her breasts was what kept her “good girl” label intact.
If you’re leering at me it’s not my fault. I’m a teenage girl in a swimsuit and you’re a pervert.
But to take the top off?
I know you can’t help yourself. Leer at me.
And the power of that kind of uninhibited physical desire for her body, for her attention, was an intoxicant she imagined she’d find more to her liking than any drug she’d tried.

And maybe that’s why she never tried it. Or maybe it was because she imagined the opportunity would always be there. Like visiting the Hoover Dam.

The Green Door was in a vast strip mall on Sahara Boulevard. A handful of Asian restaurants and an enormous pool hall huddled together at one end; a gay bar, a swingers club, the LGBT center, and the Green Door populated the other. Its kelly-green sign extended all the way across the second floor of the building, making it tough to miss.

The outer door opened into a shop full of sex toys and adult novelties; the wall was lined with whips and paddles, the counters held jars of lube and condoms, and racks strewn about were full of all manner of sexual playthings. They walked past the shop and up to the cashier's counter where James handed the girl a card. Melanie had looked at the club's website to see what it was like, and she knew that they charged sixty bucks per couple. However, the card James had handed over was not his credit card. Did he have some kind of membership?

The cashier was only visible from the waist up, and her double-Ds were displayed seductively in a pink and black corset that appeared to make breathing a challenge. "Welcome back, sir," the cashier said. "I'll tell Joey you're here if you like."

"That's ok," said James. "I'm just going to show my friend around." He took Melanie's hand in his and led her through the inner door into the darkness of the club.

It only took a few moments for her eyes to adjust, and she glanced around at what she could see of the main floor. Two pool tables sat to her left, one of them being used by two rather tall men in their thirties with shaved heads, one with a goatee. To the right was a twelve-foot stage with a stripper pole in the center. "If you feel like dancing later, just say the word," James said, and squeezed her hand.

Melanie forced a small laugh. She was trying to be open-minded and to have fun, but this was terrifying. Her hands were clammy and she could feel droplets of sweat traveling down her lower spine. James had told her she didn't have to do anything she wasn't comfortable with, but she was here, so that line had already been crossed. And she suspected that deep down he'd be disappointed if all they did was watch.

"There's more down the hall there, but we'll come back to that later." James led her to the corner of the room where stairs led up to the second level. This was more what she imagined the club would be like: a plush bed in the center of the room covered with velvet pillows, surrounded by strings of beads. Along the back wall was a bar with a bartender serving sodas and energy drinks; sadly, the club didn't serve alcohol. James asked her if she wanted anything and she declined. He pulled his shirt up to reveal a flask tucked into the waistband of his jeans.

"You sure?" he asked.

"What do you have there?"

"Jack."

"In that case, I'll have a Coke please."

She giggled as he drank down half of her soda and then spiked it when the bartender turned her back. It was strong, but tonight, that was a good thing. He led her by the hand to another room with another bed, this one up against the wall, but also plush and surrounded with bead strands. Next to the head of the bed on the wall was a fountain and the room itself was lined and furnished in various shades of red. There were couples on the couches, talking, making out, some were partially undressed.

As they walked the halls, she noticed a handful of men wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around the waist. They passed by a room full of showers that bore no indication of which gender it belonged to, but to her relief, she never did see a hot tub. (She found the idea of bathing in a soup of others' excretions nauseating.) At the end of the hall, they came to an iron door, which James swung open to reveal something that would give the Marquis de Sade a serious erection. "The dungeon," he said.

On the wall to the left was a rack with a naked girl already bound to it hand and foot, her back to the room, her brown hair tied in a ponytail. A man in a leather mask, leather pants and no shirt was flinging a whip gently at her back. He had an arsenal of whips and paddles laid out on a table next to him, and Melanie could imagine where this was headed. Walking around the room, James pointed out shackles, sex chairs, another stage with a pole, more racks, and of course a black, latex-covered four-poster bed.

Perhaps he sensed her discomfort, because he led her back out of the dungeon and into a room with small cubicles lining the walls. Each cubicle was just big enough for two people and had a bed on the wall barely five feet long. Several couples were in various stages of play, some making out, some performing oral, and one man had his companion bent over the bed and was taking her authoritatively from behind. They stood in the doorway watching for a few minutes, but their vantage point gave them a great view of the man's flabby backside and very little of the woman. “Let’s go,” said James, and took her by the hand, leading her across the hallway and into another room.

This, Melanie imagined, was where the fun happened. The room was enormous and held three queen-sized beds and several single-sized ones. There was an exam table complete with stirrups, and couches lined the outside of the room. A couple on one of the beds was naked and going at it missionary style, kissing and touching each other like lovers, and Melanie imagined that this was exactly how they did it at home. Something about that intimacy turned her on and she pressed herself against James' side as they both watched.

“What’s this room called?” she asked him.

“The orgy room.”

“Right. Of course.”

A woman walked up to the exam table and got undressed. She pulled a small vibrator from her purse and climbed up onto the table, resting her feet in the stirrups. Turning the vibrator on, she ran it over her breasts, her stomach, down to her pussy which was on display for the room. She was just average looking, probably in her forties with short, reddish hair and B-cups that spilled far to the sides as she lay on her back. But there was something about her lack of inhibition that aroused Melanie. After a few minutes, a man approached her, bent to whisper something, and she nodded. The man went to one of her feet and gripped it with both hands, kneading the sole of her foot with his fingers, and sucking on her toes.

Melanie sighed audibly. James pulled her closer and ran his hand up and down her side.

Another man approached the woman and spoke to her, she shook her head and he went away. A third man stepped up, spoke, and she nodded. He started massaging her breasts and sucking her nipples while the other man sucked her toes and the woman continued to play with her pussy, teasing the vibrator around her opening and back and forth across her swollen clit.
Safe sex
, Melanie thought.

An attractive couple in their thirties came in, got undressed and claimed one of the empty beds. Their play was raunchier, but Meanie found it hot as well, the way the woman’s head tilted back and her mouth fell open when he pulled her ponytail back, the way she whined when he smacked her ass and turned her head as if to bite him. It reminded her of feral cats having sex, and she wondered if they would both detach and break into a brawl after they came.

She sipped the last of her Jack and Coke while she watched, her senses swimming and wetness building between her legs. She knew she couldn't do what these couples were doing, not in front of all these people, but she had to have James somehow.

"Do you want to go grab one of those cubicles?" she asked.

He grinned at her and nuzzled her neck with kisses. "Is someone getting turned on?" he asked.

"Very."

"I have a better idea," he said. He led her back down the stairs, through the room with the pool tables and down a hallway. They came to a room that had cubicles similar to the ones upstairs; however, the windows and doors on these ones were made of opaque glass, so she couldn't see in. When they entered, James shut and locked the door behind them, flipped a switch, and the light changed slightly, but didn’t turn off. He took her in his arms and kissed her hard, rubbing his hands over her ass.

"So you liked what you saw, huh?"

"Mmmmm," she hummed in his ear. "It was sexy watching people."

He reached under her dress and inside her panties. "Wow babe. You're not kidding." He stroked her wetness and she moaned. With his free hand he took hold of her chin and made her look at him. "Am I to understand that you're a little freak after all?"

She laughed. "I don't know about that. I just want you to fuck me."

He turned her away from him and pushed her body up against the glass door. He pressed his hardness against her ass and she wiggled. He spent a long time teasing her and rubbing her through her clothes. Pulling the straps of her dress down, he revealed her lacy pink bra. He held her wrists in one of his hands above her head, still pressing her front against the opaque door. "They can see you," he said.