Page 22 of The Other Side of Paradise (Story of Paradise #2)

“My family’s all so uptight and straightlaced, they never talk about, you know, sex, dating, any of it.

I had friends back on the mainland I was going to have a summer internship with, and, you know—we’d keep it proper in the office, but afterwork drinks and everything?

No promises.” She laughed, shaking her head, taking another sip of her drink, and she said, softer now, “But Dad didn’t want me to go off on a stupid little internship.

Said I didn’t need to waste my time with that when I could just get a job with him or his brother after school.

But I don’t want to just do what he tells me to, so I applied anyway, worked my ass off, got accepted, and then he scheduled this vacation that conflicted with it and told me I wasn’t allowed to say no, so I wound up out here and lost the internship. ”

“Oh. Shit. I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right.” She shrugged, sipping her drink again, and she devastated me with one little effortless blow, saying, “I met you, so it’s cool.”

I took a second to remember how to speak. “Jacob let you down, so you’re back to flirting with me.”

She laughed, nudging my side. “Please. You’re always the first prize. Just went to Jacob because I thought I’d never have a chance with you.”

God, even though she was joking, it still made me want to cry listening to her say that. I made myself do a little snort, like I was playing along with the joke. “What, haven’t been feeling the chemistry?”

“Oh, I’ve been feeling it,” she laughed, and she sipped the drink again before she handed it over to me.

I took it all too readily this time, drinking longer from it, the alcohol hot in the back of my throat as I handed it back.

“Ryan’s the only girl in my family who’s remotely close to me and she’s way too proper to talk about sex. ”

I snorted, coughed, cleared my throat, and I said, “Oh, uh, I dunno…”

She raised her eyebrows at me. “What, has she been having girl talk with you too?”

Girl talk. Sure. That was what we could call it. Talking about a girl, anyway. “A little bit… just, you know. I think she’s loosened up a lot with this vacation. BB’s cool. A good influence for her, too, I think. Helping her not be so serious.”

“Huh. Yeah, I can kinda see that,” she said, relaxing. “Like, Brooklyn isn’t trying to be all serious and proper and everything. Couldn’t be less like that. She’s really just out there with who she is… it’s cool.”

“It is.” I laughed. “I’d never have made it at this place if Brooklyn hadn’t befriended me. She’s been my lifeline more than once. Guess it’s what a bartender does, even when they’re not giving you alcohol.”

“She’s never snuck you alcohol, even once?”

“I didn’t say that. She helps me get my life together. And sometimes she sneaks me alcohol. Those two times never overlap.”

She laughed bigger and brighter now, maybe feeling the flush of the alcohol a little bit herself, especially when she took a long sip of the drink. “You have a really fun friendship,” she said. “It’s fun getting to intrude and be a part of this little beach clique.”

“Beach clique. I guess we can call it that.”

She handed me the drink again, and I took just a little sip this time. Still enough to choke on it when she said, “So, eye contact. What else are you into?”

“Uh—” I choked, wiping my mouth, putting the drink down. “Um. Stuff. This and that.”

“C’mon. I can tell you mine, if it makes it easier.”

That would make everything infinitely worse. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to know Stella’s kinks, but it wasn’t going to help me hold a conversation with her. Especially because she was going to describe things with men.

But maybe it was the alcohol that had me say, “You know, sure.”

She grinned. “I knew you weren’t all boring. So, you first or me?”

I took a longer sip of the drink. I needed it right now. “I already told you one, so…”

“Okay, true. Good point. So now I owe you one. Is it cheating if I just say I’m really into eye contact and stuff too?”

This was a really bad idea. I was already turned on. Thinking about loaded eye contact with Stella and… “Oh, twinning,” I said.

“We have so much in common.” She took the drink from me, drinking long before she said, “Okay, your turn again then.”

Oh, god, it was my turn. “I haven’t had enough to drink to say this.”

She laughed, pushing the drink into my hands. I shouldn’t have, but I drank from it, the sweetness and the citrus balancing against the rum. “Now you can say it,” she said.

“Oh, fuck me.”

“That doesn’t count. That’s too basic.”

“Um… being told… what to…” I buried myself in the drink again. She laughed.

“You’re so shy, it’s cute. Being given instructions?”

“Um. Yep.”

“So you’re kinda the bottom.”

“Um… well… yeah. Yep. But just like… very…” I shook my head. “Uh—forget it. Nothing.”

“I won’t forget it. C’mon. Tell me.”

“Nope.”

“Tell me,” she said, her voice lower now. “That’s my instruction.”

Jesus Christ. My brain went to static for a second before I said, “Wow. Okay. Um. Just, you know… very… detailed instructions. And just…”

“Oh, like, talking you through it, telling you every step of what to do.”

I put the drink down and put my hands over my face. “That’s about the long and short of it, yeah. Okay, your turn.”

“That’s fun. I’ll steal that for mine, because I like… just like, talking. I’m really chatty in bed. I’m like, okay, do this, right there, just like this, that’s good, do you like this, do you want more of that, I like this, let’s do this. I don’t shut the fuck up,” she laughed.

Well. I knew what I was masturbating to tonight. Jesus Christ. Even just her imitating it just now, do this, right there, just like this… fuck me. I’d never been this turned on at the beach before. “How is this so much easier for you than it is for me?”

She laughed. “This is why it’s good to talk about it. Otherwise you end up all stuffy and awkward. C’mon, your turn.”

My turn? Was it my turn again already? Jesus. She gave me a shove on the shoulder.

“C’mon, there’s something on your mind. Just spit it out. It’s less embarrassing the less you overthink it.”

“Praise.”

She grinned. “Like a praise kink?”

“Uh, basically. I dunno.” I put a hand over my eyes. “Normally I don’t want to be loaded up with compliments or I start to feel like I’m being patronized to. But, um… well…”

“But you like being patronized to in bed.”

“Well. Fuck. I don’t know. Yes, I guess. I don’t know, it feels like the power dynamic… thing…” I groaned. “I didn’t overthink it and it’s still embarrassing. I feel lied to.”

“Power dynamics are hot, though. I get that. Like it’s just never really been a thing for me, but I understand the idea.”

“What, praise, or power dynamics?”

“Power dynamics. Like, I don’t want someone taking away my power and agency. That feels gross and like… like I’m being punished. And I’m not into being punished in bed, like, oh, you’ve been a naughty girl, Daddy’s going to have to punish you. ” She wrinkled her nose. “Gag.”

Gag was right. “What about the other way?”

“What, punishing Daddy?”

“Please, literally say it any other way. I mean, with you in power.”

She made a face down into the drink, where she cradled it in her lap. “Oh, I dunno… I’ve never really tried that. I’ve never done really intense kink stuff or anything.”

“How is that more intense kink stuff than the other way around? It’s literally the same thing.”

“Well, just, you know, like… it’s kinda different when it’s, like, femdom, right?”

“I’m a lesbian. It’s always femdom when it happens for me. Why would it be different?”

“Huh. I guess that’s a good point.” She laughed. “I dunno. I guess I’m just stuck on gender roles. Thinking about me taking power just feels like I should be there in ten-inch hooker heels with leather and a whip telling a man he’s pathetic and miserable.”

“Yeah, so, like, there’s really a whole spectrum… you don’t have to go quite that far.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I had a friend whose boyfriend one time wanted her to step on his balls.”

“I miss five seconds ago when I didn’t know that.”

“I wouldn’t want to do all of that. ”

“You don’t need to become a leather-clad ball-stomping dominatrix.”

“I dunno… it just doesn’t feel like I’m cut out for it.” She sipped her drink, a long, contemplative look on her face. I’d never thought I’d see somebody have such a serious thinking face about whether they wanted to top or bottom.

“Okay, c’mon. It’s your turn now.”

She grinned. “Cowgirl.”

“Jesus, how are you so cool and relaxed just saying things like that?”

“It’s a lot of fun getting to set the pace and stuff. And if a guy is doing it then a lot of the time it’s just, you know, like… in, out, in, out, no subtlety, no finesse. When you’re on top, you get to grind and move the angle and stuff.”

“Uh… uh-huh.” I tried not to think about Stella on top. Of… well, me. I thought about it anyway. I was going to think about it again tonight. I was going to think about this conversation every night for the rest of my life, most likely.

She laughed. “Sorry, maybe that’s too heterosexual. I guess you wouldn’t get any opportunities to do that.”

“I mean, there’s, like… you know… uh, fake ones.”

“Oh, like a strap-on. I guess. Have you ever ridden one like that?”

“N-no…”

“You should try it,” she said, nudging my side. “Or maybe you’re too much of a bottom. Have you tried it at all?”

“What, taking a… a strap?”

“Yeah.”

Aside from how I was going to use a dildo tonight and think things I shouldn’t about Stella, “No…”

“What, really? I guess I don’t know how lesbians typically do it anyway.”

“I mean.” I put my hands over my face. I was spending a lot of time today like that. “However they want, really, in general. But in my experience it tends to be a lot of, you know… like… ugh… hands… mouths…”

“Maybe your hot island hookup will want to wear one. Experience everything, you know?” She winked, and I didn’t know if I was going to die of embarrassment or arousal. Probably both at once.

“Um… m-maybe. I assume you’ll, uh, ask, if that does happen.”

“No, because you’ll tell me if she does. Obviously. The second it’s done. Hell, if you wanted to tell me while it’s happening, I’d love to cheer for you, be like, yes girl, get yours. ”

“I… wouldn’t do that, but thanks for the offer…”

“What position would you want to do? If you wouldn’t want to be on top.”

“Do I have to answer this question?”

“Uh, yeah. Go on.”

Fuck me, I wish she hadn’t said that thing about how it’s your instruction, making this whole thing feel like we were having some kind of meta-sexual experience right now.

I felt my face burning molten hot, but I said, “Um… I mean… I guess, I know it’s basic and all, but, uh, you know, m… ” I mouthed missionary, and she lit up.

“Oh, yeah. For the eye contact.”

“Oh, god. Yes.”

“That’s hot. Sometimes the classics are classics for a reason, you know?”

“Right. Yep.” What did she mean, that’s hot? She thought me taking a girl’s strap in missionary position was hot?

“I cannot wait for you to have your praise-kink missionary eye contact dreams come true.”

“I’m gonna need another drink if we’re going to continue this conversation.”

She winked, nudging my side. “Or you could continue it with Jessica…”

Jesus Christ, the amount I wanted to talk to Jessica right now, I could not quantify how small it was.

I wanted to go home and masturbate on a dildo while gasping Stella’s name and then feel terrible afterwards about having done it.

But maybe I’d get a chance to breathe and reset my mind if I was somewhere Stella wasn’t.

Maybe I’d just go up to the car real quick and breathe.

Or maybe I’d go masturbate in it thinking about Stella and get a head start on that. I was absolutely, resolutely not the type to do that.

“Right… yeah. Maybe I’ll go talk to her again. But just to chat. As friends. I’m not remotely interested.”

“Uh-huh. Well, it looks like Ryan’s finally come back,” she said, standing up, “so I’ll go bug her for a bit. But this has been a great chat. Very enlightening.”

“Yeah… very enlightened now.”

She laughed, winking and blowing me a kiss, and I felt my stomach drop out. “Have fun, Allison.”

Oh, god. I was going to go masturbate in my car after all. Otherwise I’d be aching for Stella the whole rest of the evening. “Uh. Yep. Yeah.”

Jesus, I didn’t know what had become of me.

All I knew was that even the cold shower at the top of the beach to wash the sand off me and out of my swimsuit didn’t take the edge off, and I’d barely gotten into the car—turning the lights off and reclining under the cover of my jacket, like I was just taking a nap in my car at the shaded corner of the lot—before I slipped my hand down the front of my bathing suit, and I whispered out to the emptiness of the car, “Stella…”

I was so gone.