Thunder crackled like tinfoil through the outdated speakers on Nia's TV set. Thick torrents of rain plunged from the discolored clouds above the sodden meadow where Jonathan Rhys Meyers and Scarlett Johansson locked both lips and hips in fervent, mud-drenched passion.
Nia refilled Rhys's wineglass first, then her own and eyed the screen skeptically. "I can't imagine wanting to fuck anyone so bad that I'd let him roll me around in the dirt. Especially since five minutes ago they hated each other."
"That's how these things tend to work, isn't it?" Rhys took a long pull from his wineglass. The smoky red lingered on his tongue. Nia brushed her hair, watching the scene like a critic. Or a cynic, Rhys thought.
"I never really got that part," admitted Nia. "I understand wanting to jump in bed with someone you know and really like, but someone that makes you rage?"
"Sometimes they're the same person," said Rhys, who chanced a glance at Nia. Her long, wavy dark hair ran in thick, tangled strands that curtained her round, girlish features. The ghost of last night's black makeup still lingered under her eyes. Still, somehow she smelled like peach blossoms, chlorophyll, and jasmine soap. Her large, bright brown eyes caught him watching her and she smiled shyly, diving into her wine glass.
Rhys had met her three years ago in their freshman year of college. They were invited by mutual friends to the worst party of the year, held in the basement rec room of an acquaintance's grandparent's condo building. There were fifteen guests who had never spoken to anyone but the hostess, a set of decaying furniture that smelt of Werther's and Polygrip, and only enough beer to last until the liquor stores closed.
He'd seen her sitting alone, nursing an oversweet cooler. He asked her what she'd done to deserve such a foul night, and she'd told him "nothing yet". They'd laughed and talked all night, ignoring everyone else in the room. Nia was the easiest person Rhys had ever talked to. No awkward silences. No lost momentum. She was pretty, funny, effortless.
At least she was at first. That was before Rhys met Cody, Nia's dumb ape of a boyfriend. He was 6'3" and built like an industrial refrigerator, with an intellect to match. He had limped through college classes with straight C's. He complained excessively about the ten hours a week he put in at the Student Center, and made a lot of off-color jokes about women, black people and Asians. When Rhys asked Nia why she dated Cody, she would usually change the subject, or excuse away one his uglier remarks.
"What time is it?" Nia asked him, her eyes still locked on the beautiful actors.
"Just after midnight," answered Rhys. "Maybe I should get going?"
"Not yet!" Nia grabbed Rhys's arm and he felt a dizzy thrill tug at him just below his gut. "The movie isn't even over! And you shouldn't drive, you've been drinking."
Rhys shrugged. "Wasn't going to drive. I brought cab fare."
"Don't leave yet. Please." Nia rested her head on his shoulder and sipped her wine. Rhys liked her best when she was buzzed. Not drunk, though she was fun then too. But when Nia was buzzed, she was just more herself. She was apt to act demonstrative and affectionate in a way she never allowed herself to be when sober, especially is Cody was anywhere nearby.
"Well, what if we fall asleep and Cody gets home?" teased Rhys, but there was a hardness to his voice he couldn't disguise. "What if he sees us passed out down here?"
"He knew you were coming over. That there would be wine. He wanted to do his Guys Night thing. Speaking of which, why didn't you go?"
It wasn't as though Rhys hadn't been invited. Most of Cody's friends were Rhys's friends too. They even preferred Rhys's company to Cody's, a fact which Cody was only now becoming dimly aware of. Cody had organized some party van to the casino, and then on an all night pub crawl, ending at the stripclub. Rhys had been keen enough to go, rationalizing that he could avoid Cody easily enough, but when Nia asked him to keep her company, suddenly a night of boozing with dudes and naked dancers lost its appeal.
"I'd rather hang out with you than Cody," Rhys told her truthfully.
Nia smiled and poured him another glass of wine. "I feel the same way. Is that tacky? It must be. You're not supposed to say that shit. I mean, I'm not."
Rhys watched her wine stained lips and the low V of her tight, revealing top.
"Cody likes you though, you know," Nia muttered senselessly. Rhys knew she felt guilty for preferring him but the glow he'd felt when she admitted it now faded to annoyance. Why did she have to defend him? Why now?
Nia smiled, mistaking Rhys's grimace for a smirk. "You know, he kept trying to start fights with me all night before he left. Before you got here." She sipped her wine. "He said some shitty things, wouldn't stop trying to make me mad. Why do guys do that? Did he want me to object to him gambling? Seeing strippers? I honestly don't care."
Rhys sighed heavily. "I don't think you can ask about a guy's motivations when you're talking about Cody. He's atypical."
Nia laid her legs out over Rhys's lap. Their heavy, comforting warmth made him feel lightheaded. He wanted to stroke them, to spread them wide open, but he made himself ignore them. He knew she would sense his desire, his deep longing, with the slightest touch, no matter how platonic.
"He called me 'pathetic' earlier," Nia said quietly. "I don't really know why. Maybe because I refuse sex with him a lot."
Rhys felt a stab of fury confound his equally powerful wave of arousal. He should have gone with Cody after all. This was a waste of time. Nia's flirtations were maddening and her attempt to ascertain his feelings for her were worse. How could she not know that we wanted to throw her down on the rug, or bend her over the coffee table, or make her beg for him over the bathroom sink?
"Well, then he was being an asshole," Rhys told her through gritted teeth. "He does that sometimes."
Nia nodded, suddenly distant. "Yeah. He does."
Cody never abused Nia. Even Rhys could see that. But theirs was an unequal partnership, evident even in their shared townhouse. Cody's manchild taste and whims dominated every room of the house, and in every meaningful way, By comparison, Nia's presence was ghostlike. Her coat was by the door, with her bag and shoes. Her biology textbook was open on the dining room table beside a stale mug of coffee. But the walls, the furniture, the enormous bed, all the movies and more than half the books were Cody's. Cody asked her to move in last year when rent was tight for both of them, on the condition that he didn't have to surrender much of his personal space. She'd thrown out or given away most of her possessions, and yet Cody's overflowed from every inch of every surface. Hulk posters, back issues of softcore magazines, anime babe figurines and long forgotten movies from the 80's. In the living room, apart from her junky TV, the lone evidence of Nia's residence was a pair of blue furry handcuffs that Rhys had bought her at last year's Pride Parade. They'd started out as an absurd joke; she'd hinted to Rhys about her submissiveness several times when she'd been drunk, but rarely remembered afterward. When he bought them for her she'd blushed and hid them in her purse, but at home she kept them in the living room for everyone to see. For him to see.
"Why do you keep turning Cody down?" Rhys summoned the courage to ask, knocking back the last of the red wine. He cringed inwardly, concerned he was setting a worrying precedent. He usually tried to discourage Nia from treating him like some sexless best friend.
"Hmm?" Nia looked back from the passionate sex scene onscreen but averted her eyes immediately. "I don't know. Bad chemistry? Maybe's he's seen too many pornos and thinks that's what sex should be like? Who knows?"
Rhys was sure he knew. Outside the bedroom, Nia was a barracuda. She was sharp and fiery, quick with a punchline or a dismissive remark. But Rhys saw another side. Someone warmer, softer. Nia was a born submissive. Cody was greedy and impatient and easily distracted. Before they'd dated, Nia was a virgin. And now she was bored.
