ruby-red

He went to pick Jennifer up after work. She was waiting at the bus stop, chatting with what he assumed were coworkers, when Nick pulled up beside her in his brand-new Mercedes — bought thanks to the generous loan now sitting on Rose's house, which had belonged to her family and which she'd signed over without a second thought. Without hesitation, in fact.

The moment Jennifer noticed him, a huge smile lit up her face and she ran straight for the car without even saying goodbye to the others.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, throwing her arms around him awkwardly over the center console, kissing him like they hadn't seen each other in months.

Nick shrugged. "Missed you. You were taking forever. Dinner?"

"Yes, of course," she said, beaming, unable to stop smiling.

"We've got a problem, though." Jennifer's face fell for a second. "We're not exactly dressed for the occasion." She let out a breath of relief and started smiling again. Nick drove them to an upscale shopping center, and they wandered in and decided to step into Versace. It was late, close to closing time, but a place like that would never, under any circumstances, turn away a potential customer — not with prices like theirs.

He left Jennifer wandering among the mannequins, admiring the clothes and accessories, and walked over to one of the sales associates. "We've got an event tonight and clearly aren't dressed for it, and there's no time to waste."

"Formal, cocktail, or casual?" the associate asked, not even looking up at first. When she finally did, she started blushing.

"Formal," Nick said. "For her, something that doesn't hide her figure or her assets — eye-catching, red. For me, a tuxedo."

"Of course... I'll call our tailor right away. In the meantime, why don't you both head to the fitting room, and we'll get started with your companion." She was clearly heating up fast — Nick's presence never failed.

Jennifer had a blast trying on outfit after outfit, finally settling on a fitted red dress with a plunging neckline and an open back, hem hitting just above the knee, paired with a lingerie set (they skipped the top, since she had no use for it) and matching heels. She looked like she'd stepped straight out of a James Bond film — elegant and outrageously sexy in equal measure.

Once his tuxedo was fitted, the two of them left the store looking sharp and ready.

Nick had booked the most expensive restaurant he could find, one with a months-long waiting list — luckily he'd had the idea to go in person, and the maître was a woman, his specialty. It took him ten minutes to secure the reservation, and all it cost was bending her over in the bathroom.

When they arrived, the same maître seated them, and Nick winked at her as they passed — she blushed, but thankfully his date didn't notice. Not that she would have minded, honestly — she probably would have enjoyed watching him fuck her — but tonight was for Jennifer, to make her feel special, and he didn't want to ruin that.

They had a lovely evening, talking about everything — their lives, how things had changed — her leg never once stopped brushing against his calf under the table. The food was... fine dining, neither of them was particularly impressed, but neither cared much either — they were having a great time. When it got late, Nick drove to the fanciest hotel he could find and booked a suite. They didn't even wait to get there — already in the elevator, they were undressing each other, devouring one another. In the suite, they slammed the door shut, and Jennifer walked to the edge of the bed, let her dress fall to the floor, and gave Nick a full view of her flawless body, dressed only in a lace thong and a garter belt attached to stockings that ended in her heels — all ruby-red, matching her lipstick and the spectacular dress now discarded on the carpet.

He threw off his jacket and shirt as he walked toward her, and when their bodies met again he could feel her soft breasts against his chest as he kissed her once more. Her hands wandered down over his sculpted torso, undoing his belt and pulling his pants and boxers down in one motion, freeing his massive, fully hard cock, which she grabbed and pressed between her own thighs, starting to rock back and forth, effectively stroking him with them. Nick let her for a few minutes, kissing her everywhere, occasionally nipping at her neck, which drew soft moans from her. When he felt how wet she'd gotten, he lifted her up, laid her gently on the bed, and settled over her, kissing her — first her lips, then her neck, then continuing down, pausing to play with her perfect breasts, lightly grazing her nipples with his tongue as she moaned with every touch, feeling little sparks of pleasure with each pass. He continued down, kissing across her stomach, and finally, pulling her thong aside, began working her clit with his mouth as her moans turned into small cries of pleasure.

It didn't take her long to reach her first climax — the first of many that night, since Nick spent hours making love to her exactly the way he knew she liked, with the intensity of two real lovers, no perversions or excess, just their bodies connected in pure attraction.

They slept soundly, and in the morning ordered breakfast, in no rush to leave — deciding instead to continue the evening in the jacuzzi, where they made love again that Saturday morning.

In the water, after both of them had climaxed once more, something cracked open in Nick's chest as he looked down at what he held in his arms, dozing in happy contentment. A black hole was consuming him, and he couldn't keep ignoring it any longer — guilt over everything he'd done crashed over him all at once. He genuinely loved this woman, or wanted to believe he did — but really, he was a monster, and monsters don't love. He saw his mother's face in that hospital room, telling him everything would be okay, right before he lost her.

What had he done? How had something like him come from a woman who'd given him everything, right up to her final moment? He'd turned into an abuser. A rapist.

"I can't keep going like this. I need to confess something to you. I don't... I don't think you deserve what I've been doing to you. What I'm doing to Alex, to Rose... what I was planning to do to plenty of others."

Jennifer's eyes went wide with fear. "What are you talking about, I'm completely fine..."

"Yeah, well, that's the thing... I have this... ability. I can make women do whatever I want. Like magic."

Jennifer burst out laughing. "That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard. Women act the way they act around you because you're gorgeous, smart, attractive, strong—"

"Yeah, I am all those things... now. But think about it, really think about it — think about the day we ran into each other on the bus, how you kissed me within seconds. Not even Brad Pitt showing up out of nowhere would've gotten you moving that fast."

Jennifer went quiet, thinking. She knew it didn't make any sense — she was caught between the devotion she felt for him and a small corner of her brain where logic still held some ground.

"Okay, let's say that's possible... but so what?"

"That's not really you saying these things, Jennifer. You only do it because I want you to, because I've wanted it with everything I've had since day one. I wanted to turn you into the madam of a whole harem of girls. I wanted a pimp for a wife... god, what have I done... what have I done to you..."

It hurt — he didn't want to feel this way, but he deserved it. He'd lost her. If only he'd bothered to actually talk to her instead of being a pig, a rapist, everything he'd done...

But she didn't move. Maybe she was in shock.

"It's possible, sure — but what I know for an absolute fact is that I have never in my life been this happy. I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world... and honestly, I don't think you're controlling us at all. I've thought about it," she said flatly.

"Please, stop — I don't want to keep doing this to you. You're... god, how could I do this to you..."

"You're not doing anything to me. Okay, something — but not that." She looked at him, stern.

"Then tell me what this is."

"Have you even stopped to think about how the three women living with you have absolutely nothing in common in how they relate to you, beyond just wanting you physically?" Nick raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, because you're all like that because I want you to be. I want to love you and have you love me. I want Alex to be my toy. I want Rose to suffer for being an idiot. But now, being here with you, I can't stop thinking none of it's real — that you don't actually love me, that it's all just a script I'm forcing you to act out. I'm terrible, and you're looking at me with those big dark eyes like I'm someone I'm not... and I can't take it anymore. You deserve good things. You don't deserve to be anyone's slave."

"Uh-huh. And what about before all this?"

"What?"

"Before, you and I already got along great. Before all this, Alex was a total party girl who cheated on her boyfriend constantly, and Rose has had a massive inferiority complex for as long as I've known her — about her looks, about family stuff." Nick stared at her, stunned; he'd never thought about any of that. "I think... you unlock something in us. You let loose a part of ourselves we don't want anyone else to see. You pop the cork, and... you have no idea how good that feels. Even the things I do with Alex, for you — those are for me too. Do you have any idea how many times I heard her fucking her boyfriend through the wall and got myself off imagining the two of them walking through my door and fucking me together? I never would have admitted that to a single soul, and without you I never would have made it real — but I have, and god, it's incredible."

"You're telling me you already had thoughts about Alex before all this?"

"Yeah. I suspect it's more common than people think — women being into other women even in straight relationships, group stuff, all of it."

"I don't know what to say."

"Even Rose is happy. Every time Alex drags her across the floor, she leaves a trail behind her showing just how much she loves being treated like garbage — but she never would have become what she actually wanted to be without you. You make us happy and satisfied, no matter what anyone else thinks, and we're not slaves — accept that, because none of us are going anywhere. It's way too late for that." She smiled at him — that smile only she could give, the ruby-red one that could light up a stadium. What god had crafted that smile?

Nick looked into her eyes — those big, dark eyes held nothing but honesty. He kissed her softly.

"I love you," he said finally. "And I choose to believe you're right — because even if I don't think I deserve it, I want to be with you. You're an incredible woman."

"I... I love you too. I'm sure of it now. And you'd better believe it, because I'm not going anywhere — I can't even imagine going back to some... normal, gray kind of life anymore. Now I know you have a conscience, and I can trust you're going to be a good man... to a point." She smirked, playful. "You have no idea how much it turns me on watching another woman lose her mind over you — Alex or whoever — ugh, I'm getting worked up just thinking about it."

"Really?"

"Oh yeah. Watching you use them like pieces of meat, just to please yourself, and knowing that at the end of the day, no matter how many sluts you fuck, you always come back to me — which, by the way, I used to fantasize about too. I always used to imagine coming home and catching my husband cheating on me... and in my head, I'd end up joining the orgy."

"And here I was thinking I was corrupting you..." Nick finally smiled, freed from the anguish that had been circling his head. He let himself be happy, spending the rest of the morning enjoying his queen. He knew that, whatever she said, his intentions hadn't started out that way — they'd started out as abuse, as control — but that woman filled him up so completely that he decided to bury his guilt somewhere deep and dark, and leave it there.