Lawrence Block - Getting Off

“She did show some enthusiasm, didn’t she?”

Her own name was Angelica, or at least that was the latest variation on the theme. Her parents had named her Angela, which early on got shortened to Ange and Angie. And then she resumed being Angela again, until for a while she morphed into Angelique, but that never felt entirely natural. She’d barely considered Angelica, until one night that was her response when someone asked her name, and she’d been Angelica ever since.

She was beautiful, and she knew it, but there was a portion of her psyche that would never entirely believe it. You could be better, it had said, always and forever, and it had led her to lighten her hair the slightest bit and warm its tone to a rich honey blonde. You could be better, it told her, through four minor plastic surgeries, smoothing the imperceptible bump on the bridge of her nose, lifting her full breasts a few degrees, erasing a crease here and a wrinkle there. “Gilding the lily,” her São Paulo surgeon said on her most recent visit, but she knew what she wanted, and he did the work.

“Suze the Cooze,” Brady said. “What an eager little thing she turned out to be, and inventive in the bargain. I’ll tell you, I wouldn’t mind a return engagement. And I don’t think it would be all that hard to persuade her.”

“No.”

“No? You certainly had a good time, at least the way I remember it.”

“Another time,” she said. “Tonight I want someone new.”

“You want the conquest.”

“I do,” she said. “I want the yielding, the submission. And then I want the fear, the shock and awe, when she discovers she’s getting more than she thought. And then that delicious moment when she yields all over again.”

“To me, you mean.”

“Yes.”

“I love that part,” he admitted. “And if she doesn’t yield, well, in certain ways that can be even nicer.”

“It’s delicious either way,” she said. “That’s what I want.”

“Well, I want what you want, my dear. And she’d be perfect, so it’s a shame your little dark-haired friend is taken.”

“But I don’t think she is,” she said. “Watch.”

“Thank you,” she said. “But no.”

“Hey, I just got here, you know? My name’s Bobbie.”

No response.

“You’re not gonna tell me your name?”

“I’m not interested.”

“Hey,” Bobbie said. “I’m just being friendly, you know?”

“I’m still not interested.”

“Man, that’s cold. All I said was my name and I’d like to buy you a drink. I wasn’t suggesting we take a place together and go pick out drapes.”

“You’re not my type,” she said. “So why should we waste each other’s time?”

“I’ll bet you’ve never been with anybody like me. Am I right?” She didn’t answer, and the woman took that for assent. “You don’t know what you’re missing, sweetie.”

“And I won’t find out,” she said, putting a little steel in her voice. “Not tonight, at any rate, so why don’t you go find someone who’s looking for what you’ve got on offer?”

“Women,” Bobbie said, heavily, and sighed. And got up from her seat.

“My turn,” Angelica said.

Brady watched her go. His eyes clung to her bottom as she crossed the room, and he didn’t have to check to know that his were not the only eyes on her. She was beautiful, and they were gorgeous together, he and she, and they hunted as a team, spotting their prey, cutting her off from the herd, running her down together, and sharing in the feast.

Always a delight. And sometimes it seemed to him that the best part of all was afterward, when it was just the two of them together, and no matter how much energy they’d already spent, they always seemed to have enough left for one final embrace.

When she was standing beside the girl, he watched their body language. She was wary, the little darling, but not resistant as she’d been with the butch. Definitely interested, he decided, and his decision was confirmed when Angelica seated herself beside the girl and beckoned to the bartender.

Often in their hunting it was he who made the first contact. “I’d like you to meet my wife,” he’d say. “I think the two of you would like each other.” And the woman’s face would fall, because she thought she’d been making a romantic connection and the man was already taken, and thought she and his wife would make good friends. But then she’d learn just what sort of friendship they had in mind, these two beautiful and charming people, and the next thing she knew—

But it was different in a venue like Eve’s Rib. Then it was up to Angelica to make the move, and to decide what came next. If the woman was bisexual, as so many seemed to be these days, and imbued with at least a minimal sense of adventure, Angelica would beckon him forward, and they’d all three go off together. If, on the other hand, the woman was a genuine lesbian, Angelica would raise an index finger to send him a message. Then Brady would slip away, only to turn up later as a lovely surprise.

This girl wouldn’t want a man. It would be up to him to make her change her mind. Or to have her anyway. Whether she wanted it or not.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”

“My first time,” she said.

“I’m Angelica.”

“That’s a beautiful name,” she said. Without thinking about it, she’d let her voice come out higher in pitch than usual, and soft and breathy. “Mine’s a long way from beautiful.”

“Oh?”

“It’s Missy.”

“Why, that’s a sweet name!”

“My parents named me Melissa, but all anyone’s ever called me is Missy. I guess it fits me.”

Had she ever called herself Missy before? Not as far as she could remember, or Melissa, either. She’d picked Missy out of the air when she walked into Eve’s Rib, and now it struck her that she’d made the perfect choice. It was properly soft and girlish, submissive Missy, and that ought to be catnip for this one.

“A few minutes ago,” Angelica said, “I thought you might need rescuing.”

“Why would I — oh, that woman. Bobbie.”

“I couldn’t help noticing that you weren’t interested, and that she rather emphatically was.”

“She’s not my type.”

“No, I wouldn’t think so. You’d want someone secure in her identity as a woman.”

“Yes.”

“But strong,” Angelica said. “Someone a few years older than yourself, I should think. Someone who’d be prepared to lead, and allow you to follow.”

Angelica turned to look at her, and she hesitated, but only for an instant. Then she met Angelica’s eyes and returned her gaze, holding nothing back, letting herself drink the woman in through her eyes.

For a long moment they sat on their stools, gazing silently into one another’s eyes. Then she drew a quick breath, and said, “Wow,” and took another breath, and said, “I’m not sure what just happened, but—”

“You and I,” Angelica said, “just happened.”

“Wow.”

Angelica put an arm around her, cupped her shoulder gently but firmly. “You’re a beautiful girl,” she said.

“You’re the one who’s beautiful. I’m just—”

“Stop it. You’re extraordinarily attractive, and I’m going to make it my personal business to make you realize how stunning you are. Missy?”

“Yes?”

“You and I,” Angelica said, “are going to have a perfectly wonderful time.” And Angelica’s index finger tapped three times on her bare shoulder.