He pauses by the door. “Tomorrow… I can take you someplace. Wherever you need to go. If you like.”
“Thanks. I…” The truth is, I don’t have a clue what I’m going to do tomorrow. “Anyway, thanks. For… you know. Helping me with the dog.”
We’re standing pretty close together, but I still don’t exactly expect it when John leans over and kisses me.
He does it fast, presses his lips against mine and then draws back. Like he’s nervous. The clueless, slightly awkward guy I met at that party a year ago.
I don’t know why, but it pisses me off.
“That the best you can do?”
His face darkens. He takes a step closer; we’re standing toe-to-toe. And then he kisses me for real, his body up against mine, my tits against his hard chest, his one hand tangling in my hair, the other running down my back till it cups my ass.
And yeah, I guess this is what I wanted.
I WANT THE LIGHTS out, but he wants one turned down low. “Because you are beautiful,” he says softly, “and I want to look at you.”
“I’m not.” Hearing him say that makes me get teary, which is stupid, and I know it. But I’m a mess. I don’t like looking at myself, especially my leg. Why would anyone else want to look at me, unless he’s some kind of freak?
“You are wrong,” he says. “And I can prove it to you.”
We’re lying on the bed, and he rocks back, resting on his calves and heels. His dick is standing at attention, like a good little soldier. Not the biggest one I’ve ever seen, but it’s nice. Trim and hard, like the rest of him. I like the neat black hair around it, too. I reach my hand out.
“No, Yili,” he says.
“No?”
He stretches out next to me, his face close to mine. “You know about Dao?”
“Taoism?”
“Yes.”
His fingers start tracing light patterns all over me, from the crease of my jaw down to the hollow of my neck, onto my nipple, along my ribs, and it’s making me crazy.
“I… uh, just, ren fa di, di fa tian, tian fa…” It’s this Taoist rhyme I learned in Chinese class.
“Tian fa dao,” John supplies. “Dao fa ziran.”
Man follows Earth, Earth follows Heaven, Heaven follows the Way, the Way follows Nature.
“Yeah. That,” I manage.
“You know what Taoists believe?”
“Uh…”
“Taoists believe that man is yang. Man must preserve essence.”
“Essence?”
“You know,” he whispers.
I can guess.
“Women, women are yin. Men only have so much yang essence. But women, women have always their yin. In this way women are stronger than men.”
His hand moves lower, and I am not feeling strong.
“Taoist say it’s very good for man to… to get yin from woman. But she only release yin if he pleases her. So he should be inside her as long as he can. And please her many times.”
“Are you a Taoist?” I ask.
He grins. “I practice.”
AT ONE POINT THE dog starts whining and comes over to the bed. “It’s okay, dog,” I tell her, but she keeps whining. Maybe she only understands Chinese. “Uh, dou hao. Xiuxi! Shuijiao!” Finally she settles down again. Which is good, because John does not seem to be settling down anytime soon.
He gets my yin once, twice, and it’s not until we’re trying something called “Mating Cicadas” (it’s a lot better than it sounds) and a third dose of my yin that John’s jade stalk gives it up inside my red pearl.
“Wow,” I finally say.
“I can do better,” he tells me.
I MANAGE TO GET out of bed, clean myself up, put my pj’s back on, because even though John’s seen pretty much all there is to see of me, I still don’t like being seen. The dog’s lying on a rug near the bathroom. When she sees me approach, she looks up and thumps her tail. “Good dog,” I whisper. “Hao gou.” I hold out my hand, and her wet nose nuzzles my palm.
By the time I get back to bed, John is sound asleep. I settle in next to him.
I lie there, exhausted, but not quite ready to sleep.
I just had the best sex of my life, with Creepy John.
And he doesn’t even snore.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
I WAKE UP BECAUSE the dog barks.
I lift my head, and I see John and the dog by the door. He has the dog on the leash, and the dog is doing this excited hopping and circling, from her back to her front legs. She barks again. A happy bark.
“Sorry!” John says in a low voice. “I just take her outside. For walk. I already give her antibiotic,” he adds.
“Thanks.”
After he closes the door, I fall back on the bed. I’m so sore I feel like I’ve been to fucking Taoist boot camp. Or Taoist fucking boot camp. Ha-ha.
I lie there for a while, but I can’t sleep. I think, John will come back soon. Do I want to be lying here in bed when he does? For another round of yin exchange?
I haul my ass out of bed and into the shower.
As I stand under the water, I think of all the reasons why sex with Creepy John was a truly bad idea.
Okay, I’m not completely irresponsible. I know I have this tendency to occasionally hook up with guys I don’t know very well. So I’m on the pill. And I also insist on condoms.
Well, most of the time. Last night being an exception.
I’ve had the hepatitis B vaccination series, so that’s good. There’s a lot of hep B in China. HIV, though… and there’s a lot of HIV here, too.
He’s with the DSD. He’s not going to have HIV. I don’t think.
And, he’s with the DSD. Which I am pretty sure is one for the “truly bad idea” category.
On the other hand, it’s slightly less creepy than if he were just some crazed stalker dude. Right?
How can you be so fucking stupid? I ask myself.
By the time I come out of the shower, pressure bandage rewrapped, dressed in my jeans and a fresh T-shirt, John has returned with the dog.
“Breakfast,” he announces.
Croissants and coffee. On a tray. Un-fucking-believable. “They have all this at the hotel,” he explains, setting it up on the little table. “From European bakery. And very good coffee.”
“You like coffee?”
“Before, not very much. But lately I like more and more.” He smiles at me.
The dog, meanwhile, nuzzles my legs and then sits on my feet.
“She is very affectionate,” John says.
“Yeah.”
“Please, sit. Have coffee.”
I feel this sudden rush of… maybe not anger, but irritation. I don’t want to do anything that John tells me to do.
Except I really want some coffee. And maybe a Percocet.
Is it too early for beer?
I lower myself onto the chair and pick up the cup of coffee. I read somewhere that a study in Japan showed that rats get happier just from smelling coffee. I take a deep breath before I sip.
John sits across from me, holding his coffee cup in his hands. He looks younger somehow. Boyish. A bounce in his step like the dog’s.
Maybe it was all that yin he got last night.
“So where do you want to go now, Yili?”
I shrug. I don’t really know, and I don’t feel like talking about it.
John tears off a piece of his croissant. Hesitates.
“If you tell me a little more, maybe I can help.”
“Look, just fucking lay off me, all right?”
He sits back in his chair. I’m not sure how to read the expression on his face. Is he pissed off? Is he hurt? I can’t tell.
“Okay, last night? You satisfied your curiosity,” I say. “Fine. So did I. But you think that means we’re suddenly all friends and I’m going to trust you? How stupid do you think I am?”
Now he’s angry, and I can tell. He slams his mug on the table, coffee splashing over the sides. “What do you think this is, Ellie? What do you think?”