Jasper

I couldn’t sleep. I’d left the restaurant right after Marin, driven home, and crawled into bed. It had been a long day. Yet, sleep wouldn’t come. It didn’t make any sense. I’d had sex with plenty of women more attractive than Marin. Some were models and actresses, others just pretty faces I ran into at parties or clubs. And even after the wildest of nights, I had always been able to fall asleep.

But now, I couldn’t un-see Marin’s pale face, the flush that brushed across her cheekbones. I couldn’t forget the feel of her smooth thighs on my fingertips. She’d smelled like grease, the way all the waitresses did, but there was something else, too. As I’d stripped her clothes off, a distinctive sweetness rose from her feverish skin. I wanted to bath in it.

I rolled over, burying my face in my pillow. This woman was supposed to be a cover. I couldn’t allow myself to actually become involved with her. Then, an idea struck. I knew why I couldn’t get Marin out of my mind.

We hadn’t slept together.

Of course. I’d never seen a woman in as few clothes as I’d seen Marin in and not had sex with her. My insomnia wasn’t brought on by Marin but by commonplace horniness. Commonplace for other men anyway. I took women to bed with enough regularity that rarely did that particular emotion have time to build.

The solution, then, was simple. I had to have Marin. Once I did, she’d join the ranks of the scores of other women who’d had the privilege of lying between my sheets.

***

The next morning, finding Marin’s address was simple enough – just a quick flip through the employee records. And enough women had used me for my wealth and lavish lifestyle, that I’d become a near-expert in dress sizes.

I called Veronica, a personal friend who happened to be a damn fine designer, and had her send something black and lacy to Marin, courtesy of Jasper Black. I wanted the dress to match the lingerie Marin had worn the night before. Just the thought of it made me hard, and I knew the evening would be one to remember.

The event itself was nothing to write home about. Just a local business owner’s gala – a place for people to make connections and eat shrimp. But mostly, they drank. By the end of the night, most everyone left the event completely sloshed. The copious amounts of alcohol were part of the reason why the mattress king’s wife found him with his hands very far up the skirt of the owner of several popular flower shops. It would be the perfect place to debut my new relationship with Marin, and the alcohol would certainly help to loosen her up.

As I walked towards her apartment building, I pressed the “lock” button on my key fob twice just to be safe. Garbage overflowed from the trash cans lined up along the street, and unreadable graffiti marked every inched of the fence around her building. I rang the buzzer next to her apartment number, but the entire panel seemed to be broken, so I tried the door and realized it was unlocked. So much for safety.

The gray-blue carpets that lined the hallways were only that color along the walls, where people rarely walked. The strip down the middle of the hallway had faded to a dirty brown. I only looked up to notice the overhead lighting because nearly all of the fluorescent bulbs were burnt-out or flickering. The entire building looked as though it could double as the set for a slasher film.

Marin’s apartment was on the second floor – the elevator had a faded sign claiming it was out of order – and I knocked twice, hoping I hadn’t contracted some sort of flesh-eating bacteria simply by touching the door. It opened, but the woman standing in front of me was not Marin. She had dark black hair that hung to the middle of her back and a round face that made her look remarkably young.

“Jasper.” My name fell out of her open mouth more like a reflex than a conscious thought.

“Hi,” I said, trying to place the woman. Did I know her from somewhere? Or, worse yet, had I slept with her before and then completely forgotten? Unfortunately, that did happen from time to time. Always very awkward.

She shook her head as though clearing away cobwebs and stepped aside. “Come in, obviously.”

I took a step forward and then hesitated. “Marin does live here, right?”

“Yes,” she said, an uncomfortable smile smearing across her face. “I’m her roommate, Kayla. I also work at Jasper’s Grill.”

I could tell she was embarrassed that I hadn’t remembered her, so I smiled as if suddenly remembering. “Of course. I knew I recognized you.”

Her smile brightened several watts, and I knew it had done the trick. The apartment was considerably nicer than the building would have lead me to believe. Bright pops of color offset the dark walls, and photographs and artwork made the place feel very homey. It looked like a college student’s apartment, but it was cute.

“Can I get you anything?” Kayla asked, gesturing towards the small kitchen. “Water or... milk?” She laughed. “Sorry, we don’t have much else.”

“No, I’m fine,” I said. I looked around the room and noticed a door to the side, a strip of light coming out from underneath it.

Kayla must have noticed me looking. “I can get Marin for you.”

She rushed past me and slipped through the door. I tried to peek in through the crack, but Kayla closed the door before I could see anything. Immediately, I heard muffled voices on the other side of the wall. Unable to resist, I moved closer.

“Marin, what is your problem? He is so hot.”

“There are more important things in life,” Marin said.

Kayla laughed. “That’s what ugly people say to make themselves feel better.”

“Tell him to go away.” Marin sighed. “Tell him I’m sick.”

“You’re insane. Are you sure?” Kayla lowered her voice, but it still floated effortlessly through the paper-thin walls. “He’s wearing a suit that totally makes his package look enormous. Is that real or is it a sock?”

“Kayla,” Marin warned.

“God, you are no fun. You sleep with the hottest man I’ve ever seen, and you won’t even tell a girl whether he’s hung or not. So not fair.”

“I promise to tell you if you get rid of him.”

Marin’s words stung me, though I couldn’t say why. Of course she wouldn’t want to see me. It made sense, but I still couldn’t help but wish that she did. After sending her the dress that morning, I’d assumed I’d knock on the door, and she’d open it wearing the dress, the fabric clinging to her curves. She would still be distant, but my gesture would have warmed her towards me, and we’d have a great night. I hadn’t anticipated she would refuse to see me.

Kayla came out of the room, a grimace on her face. “Unfortunately, Marin isn’t feeling well.”

“Oh, she isn’t?” I asked, unable to resist raising one eyebrow.

Kayla squirmed under my gaze. She nodded, though I could practically see beads of sweat gathering on her forehead. Within seconds, she relented, shoulders slouching forward. She put a hand to her mouth and whispered, “I’m not sure what her problem is. She can be kind of dramatic sometimes.”

I didn’t know Marin well, but she didn’t strike me as the dramatic type. I also didn’t know Kayla well, but based on the way she kept looking at me, she struck me as the jealous type. Even though I’d overheard everything and knew Marin was lying to escape an evening with me, I would have respected Kayla a lot more if she’d stuck to her friend’s lie rather than throwing her under the bus.

Without responding, I stepped around Kayla and knocked on Marin’s door.

“Is he gone?” she asked, her voice a whisper just on the other side of the cheap door.

“No, he isn’t,” I whispered back.

She gasped, and I couldn’t help but smile.

“Can I come in?” I asked, but I was already turning the handle.

The door thudded in the frame, and Marin’s hands gripped the handle on the other side, keeping me out.

“I’m stronger than you are,” I said. “If I want in, I’ll get in.”

Kayla mumbled something behind me about being ungrateful and then moved into the kitchen.

“Just go away,” Marin said. I heard her lean back against the door and slide down to the floor.

“Did you get the dress I sent?”

A small pause. “No.”

Liar. “How did it fit?”

“Like a damn glove.” She sighed. “Are you going to go away?”

“Not until you talk to me,” I said. And put the dress on and go to the event with me and have sex with me. I thought it was best to keep a lot of my thoughts to myself.

Finally, the knob turned, and Marin opened the door. She had a blanket around her shoulders, but she opened it and let it fall on the floor. I’ve had very few moments in my life when I felt like a cartoon wolf at a burlesque show –tongue lolling out of my mouth, eyes turning into hearts and popping out of my head – but this moment was one of them.

Marin had the dress on, and she was right. It fit her like the finest damned glove I’d ever seen. Black lace clung to her like a second skin, ruching across her torso and gathering on her hip. There was nothing under the lace, but it was a small enough pattern and expertly designed, so all of her sensitive areas were covered. What a shame. I wanted to rip it off her on the spot. Her hair was loose and draped down her back in thick, effortless waves.

“You look astounding,” I said. I thought I heard a pan slam down on the counter particularly loud in the kitchen.

Marin looked down at herself as if she were trying to decide if I was serious.

“Are you ready to go?”

She looked up at me, eyebrows drawn together. “I’m not going anywhere.”

For someone who was trying to get rid of me, she sure looked ready to go out. I grabbed her hand and gently pulled her into the living room. “This dress is too nice to stay cooped up in your bedroom. We’re going out.” She began to shake her head, but I leaned forward until we were on the same level. “Remember our deal, sweetheart.”

I heard the venom in my own voice, and I wished I didn’t have to use it, but it was effective.

Marin’s expression went neutral. “I’ll grab my bag.”

Kayla waved from the door as we left, and slammed it especially hard as we walked down the hallway. When we got outside to the car, I opened Marin’s door for her, and she slid inside without touching me or even glancing in my direction. The evening was off to a great start.

“Where are we going?” she asked as we drove towards the heart of the city, skyscrapers towering over the interstate.

“Business owner’s gala,” I said, changing lanes and speeding around a small Buick that was crawling down the road. “There will be some shoptalk and a lot of people shamelessly promoting their businesses, but there will also be lots of alcohol.”

“Thank God.”

“You don’t seem very excited,” I said. The reality was, thus far, not matching up with my expectations, and I was more than a little annoyed. “Do you plan to put on a happy face for the party?”

Finally, Marin looked over at me, the disdain etched into every line of her face. “I’ll play my part if you promise to play yours. You are supposed to be my boyfriend, not my pimp. Try being a little less controlling.”

I took the exit towards city center driving at least twenty over the speed limit, my frustration being released through my foot. “Deal.”