Getting sexy: Obsession / Getting Some / Getting Even. Kayla Perrin

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СКАЧАТЬ are looking up,” I tell her. I don’t add, “Just barely.”

      “Because if things aren’t going well, you know I can always get you work at the club.”

      I chuckle sarcastically, like I always do. This is a running joke between us—though I don’t particularly find it funny. It’s Samera’s way of saying she thinks I’m a prude. Of course, she doesn’t think she’s loose. She says she’s sexually liberated.

      “How about we settle on lunch instead?” I suggest. “Sometime soon. It’s been way too long.”

      “You’re on, sis.”

      It remains to be seen if this will happen. “Listen,” I say. “The reason I’m calling. I need to ask a favor.”

      “Sure.”

      “This is going to sound weird, but where can I find an adult store?”

      “An adult store? You mean like JCPenney?”

      She knows exactly what I mean. “No, a store that sells…stuff. You know.”

      “You mean a sex shop?”

      “Yeah, whatever.”

      Samera laughs. “I swear, Annie, I can see you turning red. I don’t know why you get so embarrassed. This is the new millennium. Women are allowed to say sex without fear of being persecuted.”

      “I don’t need a lecture. Just directions.”

      “What do you want exactly? Videos? Toys?”

      “I was thinking more along the lines of sexy lingerie. I want to spice things up with Charles.” As I say this, I envision a laughing devil with a pitchfork. Believe me, it’s hard to undo eighteen years of my mother’s conditioning.

      “Why not come by the club? That’ll get you both in the mood.”

      “No thanks.” I wouldn’t be caught dead in a strip joint with Charles. That’s not the drastically different I had in mind. “I just want to find a place where I can buy some naughty stuff. Lace and feathers. Maybe even crotchless underwear.”

      “Oh, my. You are serious.”

      “You can stop your snickering. I haven’t been living under a rock.”

      “Okay, okay.” Samera settles down. “Crotchless is great, by the way. Always gets a guy in the mood. So are edible undies. There was one time when I bought them for this guy I was seeing and let me tell—”

      “Too much information,” I announce, cutting my sister off. Samera often gets carried away, telling me details I don’t want to know. “I just want to know where I can find a place to buy some stuff.”

      “Where are you? Coming from the studio?”

      “Yep.”

      “There’s a place in Sugarloaf that I highly recommend. It’s on your way home. I get a ton of my stuff there. It’s called A Little Naughty. Corner of John and Hibiscus.”

      Now that Samera’s said this, I get a mental image of this shop. I’ve driven by it but haven’t consciously noticed it. “I think I know the place,” I say.

      “It’s got everything you could possibly dream of. Ask for Suzie. Tell her I sent you and she’ll give you a discount.”

      I wonder how much stuff my sister buys there. Actually, I don’t want to know. “Thanks a bunch, sis. Listen, I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

      “You don’t have to stay with Charles if he doesn’t appreciate you. And if this doesn’t get him aroused, I’d seriously start wondering if he’s not screwing around.”

      “Bye.” I roll my eyes as I end the call, remembering exactly why we don’t talk that often. Between her implying that I’m a docile wife who’s far too sexually inexperienced and her often brazen suggestion that I dump my husband, I can only take so much of her. I love Samera, but our lives are as different as night and day. She’s single and doesn’t believe in marriage, much less monogamy. She’s more into what men can give her, since she says she’s been burned too many times. I, on the other hand, would never think of being with a man for his money. Samera thinks I’m setting myself up for failure, especially since she knows that Charles isn’t giving me any love these days.

      Thirty minutes later, I’m pulling into the strip mall at the corner of John and Hibiscus Streets. Right away I see the neon-pink lights and naughtily dressed mannequin in the window. The sun is already disappearing on the horizon, but nonetheless, I slip my sunglasses on as I exit my car. I don’t want to chance being recognized.

      I enter the store and for what seems like minutes, I just stand there, checking it all out. I’m experiencing sensory overload. There’s lots of skimpy lingerie to my left, but nothing I haven’t seen before. It’s the stuff to my right that makes me blush.

      There’s a wall with dildos on display—some so large I can’t imagine any woman ever buying one. And apparently they come in all the colors of the rainbow, which makes me wonder if they’re flavored like Life Savers.

      “Hi!” A petite brunette bounces toward me. She has a piercing in her eyebrow and is into dark makeup. “Can I help you?”

      “I’m…just looking.”

      Her eyes narrow, as if she’s trying to decide if she knows me. “You look really familiar. Have you been here before?”

      “Me? God, no.” Then it hits me. “You’re probably confusing me with my sister. Samera Peyton.”

      “Yes, of course.”

      “Are you Suzie?”

      “Uh-huh. Are you sure there’s nothing I can help you find?”

      I know this is a sex shop, but I don’t want this cute little thing getting a visual image of what I might be doing later. I shake my head. “Not right now, anyway. But I’ll let you know.”

      I turn and wander to the left, heading toward the safe-looking lingerie I have no intention of buying. Not that that really makes much sense when I think about it. Suzie will see what I purchase soon enough.

      “Relax,” I whisper to myself as I finger a lacy black teddy. “You’re a grown woman. You’re allowed to have good sex.”

      Hell, I’d take mediocre sex right now. That sad reality has me forgetting about my reservations and I forge ahead to find the raunchiest piece of lingerie here. I find panties with no crotch, bras with feathers at the nipple. I hang on to both like they’re the answers to all my problems.

      When I see a maid’s outfit on a mannequin, I can’t help but laugh. But once I stop chuckling, I take a closer look. This maid’s outfit is barely there. Talk about stepping out of your comfort zone to do something different. In this uniform, I can role-play. I can be a lousy cook, or suck at dusting.

      And Charles can spank me, then punish me with his piercing shaft…

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