Handled Like a Man

Madison's fingers curled around Joey's wrist as she led him up the stairs, Aynsley close behind, Bianca trailing with that smooth, confident walk he'd seen her use. Nobody spoke. They didn't need to. The way the girls moved, the way the each of them reached out and caressed Joey as they made their way upstairs spoke enough.

In a haze of anticipation, Joey quickly found himself standing in front of the master bedroom.

Madison knocked—three times, firm and confident.

A pause.

He heard his mother's voice come through the door. Sharp. Curious.

"Who is it?"

"It's us," Madison said.

As the lock clicked, Joey's pulse spiked. The door creaked open.

There she was. His mother. Donna. Standing in the doorway, a vision of forbidden beauty.

Joey could now see clearly what she had meant when she told him, before the party had gotten going, that she was going to freshen up. Gone was the insanely slutty outfit she'd worn earlier in the day. Nowhere to be found was a sharp black business suit that she might wear to work. Instead, the woman who had put Band-Aids on his skinned knees was wearing soft pink lingerie—a bra that cupped her perfectly, matching panties held up by a garter belt that wrapped her waist like a ribbon around a gift. Black stockings. Black heels. Her hair was down, a glossy wave over one shoulder. Her lips were painted faintly pink, her eyes sharp and soft all at once.

She looked at Joey and smiled—slow, wicked, hungry.

"There you are, husband."

He swallowed hard.

"Come in, sweetheart."

The room was dim, glowing with golden lamp light. Eliza stood near the far side wearing the outfit that Joey had picked out for her. Dressed in a skirt so short it could have passed as a suggestion and a top that teased more than it covered, Joey had a hard time reconciling his memory of the stern teacher with the woman before him. Her red hair had fallen from its bun, tumbling loose, and her gray eyes locked on Joey like she hadn't taken a breath since she last saw him.

When he stepped through the door, Eliza took a single step forward and lowered her eyes like a servant before a king.

"You're here," she whispered. "I missed you."

Someone closed and locked the door behind them. Madison came up beside him, hooking her arm through his possessively. "You should have seen it. He was amazing."

Aynsley flopped onto the edge of the bed with a sigh and looked at Eliza. "So brave. Derek came in, taps him on the shoulder, asks for you. It could have gone really badly, but Joey just... handled it."

"De-escalated everything," Bianca said from behind him. "You'd think he was an expert at it. Joey pulled him aside and talked to him. Derek left without incident."

"I mean, he was already pretty dialed down," Joey said, blushing at the compliments.

"Nonsense," Aynsley dismissed him, "Any of the guys I'd dated before you would have seen Derek as a threat. It would have ended in a fight. Not you. You took care of him, just like you take care of us."

"Eliza, he asked me to tell you 'goodbye' for him," Joey said, a pit of guilt in his stomach.

"Thank you, sir," his history teacher said. "That conversation would have been very difficult for me."

"He took care of you," Madison added. "That's why we brought him upstairs. So we could take care of him."

Donna walked a slow circle around Joey now, her heels clicking softly on the hardwood. One red-tipped finger trailed across his shoulder. "You always had it in you, didn't you?" she purred. "My brave, clever husband. You handled it just the way a man should."

Eliza nodded, voice breathy. "You've become so… manly, Joey. That little boy who I used to date was nothing compared to you. I don't understand what I used to see in him. It's you that I want. It's you that I love."

Donna leaned in, lips near his ear. "That's why you're the man of this house now. That's why I'm yours. I've never been more sure of anything, darling."

Her hand rested lightly on his chest. "You're everything I ever wanted in a husband."

Madison stepped closer on one side, Aynsley on the other. Eliza moved behind him, hands ghosting over his arms like they were tracing his shape into memory. Bianca just watched, arms folded, heat rising in her eyes.

Joey could barely think. He didn't have to.

They were all looking at him now. Waiting. Ready.

Then Madison, in her low confident voice, asked the question:

"Who do you want first?"