Page 11 of Deviant Desires

Catherine has been Bambi’s best friend for as long as I can remember. I once asked Bambi how far their relationship went back and she didn’t seem to know. They went to elementary school together, but they weren’t friends until high school. Bambi used to tell me that Cat was always in her life, the capacity of which just changed with the years. It’s nice to see that they’re still close, even if her best friend hates me after everything that happened.

I watch the two of them from the parking lot of Crumbl as they sit on a bench outside. The moon is high in the sky and the wind whips their high ponytails around. Sometimes the faint sound of their laughter comes back to me, drifting over the howling wind and tickling my ears. It brings me joy to see her happy. Why can’t she see that that’s all I want for her?

I notice that she still isn’t wearing the engagement ring and it pisses me off. I don’t see it glistening on her left hand, proclaiming to the world that she’s mine again. I know that the ring sits at home on her coffee table; I’ve witnessed it with my own eyes. I’ve touched the diamond, felt the velvet box in my hand, and grown angry with rage that she didn’t dare to put it back on her finger.

I had hoped it was because she wanted to tell her parents the news first, or maybe even Cat. If she got that out of the way, then she’d happily put the ring back on and take her place at my side. But it’s been nearly a week and she’s seen Cat twice now. How much longer do I have to wait?

After a while, the two of them get up from their bench and throw away their trash. I see lips moving as they laugh again, but then they separate and head for their cars. Cat parked in front of Crumbl while Bambi parked a couple of rows over. I watch as the object of my affection gets in her car, shoots off a text message, and starts her drive home.

My gut tells me that I should have cloned her phone. Wondering who she texted eats at me the entire drive. I stay a couple of blocks away the entire drive, drifting behind other cars on the road every now and then to keep up appearances. While a top 40 hit plays on the radio, all I can think about is who was on the receiving end of her message. Was it a friend? Her boss? Another one of her little playthings? My blood boils and I tighten my grip on the steering wheel. If it’s one of her boyfriends, so help me God, I’ll kill them.

Despite the obsessive thoughts about who Bambi is talking to and why it isn’t me, we eventually make it to the Candlewood neighborhood. Though my house is across the street from hers, I know that I should keep driving and wait a bit until she gets inside. But all those questions and queries about who she’s texting are enough to drive me over the edge. Instead of turning down a random street and pretending I’m just another someone who lives in the neighborhood, I follow her home. To her home. Toourhome.

If Bambi knows it’s me, she doesn’t let on until we arrive. She opens the garage door, pulls in, and then gets out with a glare on her face and a stun gun in her hand. I’m barely in the driveway when I hear her yelling over the sound of my car’s engine.

“What did I tell you?” She keeps her finger on the activation button. “This is over, Mateo. This isn’t a thing. Go. Home.”

She’s cute when she’s angry. Hair is plastered to her face from sweat and the wind beats around what’s being held high on her head. The tight little top and shorts she wears have dark spots of dampness between her thighs and breasts from her earlier workout. As I open my car door, I’m treated to the scent of her natural pheromones. “It’s always a pleasure, B.”

Bambi waves the stun gun at me even though she’s backed up a couple of steps since I climbed out of my car. “Go home, Mat.” But she doesn’t sound like she means it, at least not to my ears.

“If you recall, Iamhome. I bought this place, remember?” I look up at the house we were supposed to live in together. God, it’s such a nice place. It isn’t the most expensive home that money can buy, but Bambi said there was something beautiful about the west side of Manhattan. The streets were less busy and there were more families on the block. It’s where people moved to settle down away from the college kids and the military families renting homes.

But Bambi doesn’t remember that, or she simply doesn’t care. “Your brothers transferred ownership to me when you went away,” she says with a frown. “It’smyplace now.”

I take a step toward her, wanting to embrace the woman I love. It’s been too long. It was just a few days ago that I got to touch her for the first time in five years. I miss the feeling of her skin against mine. “It’sourplace, B,” I remind her.

She presses the button on the stun gun and I hear it crackle in her hands, as if daring me to reach forward and make contact with the threatening metal. “Stop,” she begs. “You can’t do this. I’m over you.” The words sound feeble even to her own ears.

“Are you, though? Are you saying that you don’t think about me anymore? That you haven’t spent the last six days wondering if you made a mistake?” By turning me in, she put our lives on hold for five years. Three of them were courtesy of the judicial system, but two of them were because of her stubbornness. “Tell me to my face that you don’t still love me, Bambi.”

The stun gun shakes in her hand. If I didn’t have an eye on it, I would never have noticed. It’s just enough of a misstep that I take advantage of it.

Her finger slips off the activation button and I reach forward to slap the gun to the ground. Bambi cries out in shock as it falls from her hand. “Mat, I—”

“You’re not wearing the ring.” I cover the distance between us, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her into my body. The warmth of her skin pressed against mine makes me hard. “Too afraid to take it off the coffee table and put it back on?”

Her eyes are highlighted with shock. “How did you—”

“I know everything, B. I know about the men you’ve dated, who’ve come into your house, into yourpussy, and never even bothered to get you off. I know that you walk around your house naked on Sunday mornings as the laundry tumbles dry. I know you sit on your couch watching reruns of Shameless and Grey’s Anatomy because you can’t bear the thought of starting a new television show.” I pause to look at her beautiful face, taking in the depths of her dark eyes as she stares up at me. “I know that you blame me for everything that happened, but I can fix it, Bambi. I can make it all right again.”

Bambi hesitates for a moment. “It isn’t that simple.” I can see the frustration in her eyes, the questioning of what comes next. Should she push me away? Should she try to fight me off? Or does she give in to her baser instincts? Does she allow herself to say fuck it and throw all her fears to the wind for one last fling?

I don’t let her come to a conclusion. I’m afraid that if she does, she might decide against me. She might realize that she doesn’t need me as badly as I need her.

I step back, pulling her with me. “It’s as simple as you allow it to be,” I tell her. When I run into my car, I twist her in my grip until her back is pressed against my front. In the cool evening air, I hold her as if letting her go will cause me to lose her forever. “What happened was a mistake, B. That man should never have been there. You should never have seen what I did to him. We were supposed to have a beautiful night and he ruined it.” As I speak, I rub the front of her workout shorts.

“He didn’t ruin it, Mateo, you did,” she says in sharp, short bursts of breath. I see her eye the stun gun on the ground, forgotten on the edge of the grass. Before she can try to fight her way out of my grasp and get to it, I turn around to face the car.

With her hips pressed against the hood of my car, I dip my hand between the front of her shorts and her skin. “I love you, Bambi. Why can’t you see that?”

She writhes against my fingers, pressing her hands against the hood. “Let me go, Mat. You can’t do this to me again,” she argues.

I lean down to whisper in her ear. “I never did anything to you in the first place.”

“The other night,” she begins, but I cut her off before she can finish.

“You wanted that as much as I did. You didn’t just cum on my cock, B, you screamed my name. Because you and I are meant for one another.” It’s a struggle to get my free hand to do all the work, but I manage to unzip my pants and pull out my cock after a few moments. I rub it up against her ass, feeling the cool lycra material on my skin.

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