Page 7 of Satisfaction Guaranteed

Nakita lifts a flawless, arched brow. “Rose analogy?”

Alana nods and leans back into her chair, where she picks at a piece of frayed fabric sticking out of the worn armrest. “She gave me a rose as a present one day,” she explains. Her voice lowers to a murmur, “had me admire the beauty of it all. Then, once I agreed that I thought the rose was beautiful, she had me crush it and try to put the petals back where they were. Make it like new again. When I couldn’t, she told me that’s how people would look at me after I have sex. Future partners, men specifically. She made it seem like I’d be something damaged.”

Looking back, she knows it’s silly. But for a little girl, having it cemented that her worth was tied to virginity was a bit much to process. Even as she got older, it stuck. Navigating dating and crushes and sexual urges all came with an underlying ache of shame and anxiety. It’s partially why she’s so picky. If she fucks the right guy—the good, well-mannered guy who loves her— maybe there’s less opportunity to feel damaged at the end of it. And maybe, just maybe, she won’t face the same scrutiny as her cousins.

When she looks up at Nakita, there’s the expression she anticipated. Sympathy. Pity. She fights against the urge to run away from it. “I told you it was stupid. I mean, it’s not the only reason I’m hesitant. There are definitely other offenses. But it’s been hard navigating a sex life when you feel borderline wrong for even wanting to have one.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” A voice sounds from the kitchen. Lilith, Nakita’s fiancé, pads over with a snack tray in hand. She sets it down on the coffee table and plops herself on the edge of the couch, a hand outstretched to take Alana’s. She squeezes it firmly. “That’s not stupid. That’s the exact purpose of purity ideology. Making people, especially young girls, feel wrong for having the same needs and urges as anyone else.” A line forms on her forehead, her mouth tugged into a frown. “I’m so sorry.”

Nakita nods in agreement and joins her love at the edge of the couch. She leans into her, an arm around her shoulder. “The idea of virginity is literally a social construct. You never should have been pressured to “preserve” yourself,” she mutters. “How well can your granny take a punch? Just curious.”

Lilith jabs her in the ribs with her elbow, white hair and sparkly jewelry swaying with the force of the hit. She bickers at her in Korean, then fixes the woman with a stare cold enough to turn a normal person into stone, but Nakita is unfazed.

It earns a soft laugh from Alana. The weight on her chest feels lighter. Less intense. “I’m not letting you fight my grandmother. She keeps my late granddaddy’s brass knuckles in her purse, and as much fun as I’d love seeing her fight a vampire, I love you both too much.”

Nakita rolls her eyes. As if the idea of not being able to throw hands with the Darling family matriarch physically hurt her. “Ugh, whatever, fine, I won’t fight her. But I will be creating nursing home savings in her honor.” She shifts her weight to lounge over Alana’s lap, her arms crossed, long legs wrapped over the side of the armrest. “I mean it, though. What I said earlier about taking what you want? There’s nothing wrong with what you’re doing. I think it’s pretty badass, actually. Just be prepared, though.”

“Thanks, Kita.” Alana smiles, though it quickly falls, and her brows knit together. She blinks, head tilted. “Be prepared for what?”

Nakita’s grin sharpens in the corners. Her fangs, adorned with gold grillz, glint in the warm light of the room. “If you’re going to do this, you need to know that there’s something about finally popping your cherry that turns you into an animal. You think you’re horny now? You’re going to be wanting to hump every hot stranger’s leg for a few months after, I swear.”

“She’s not lying,” Lilith giggles. “I was kind of a late bloomer, too, at least by vampire standards. And I swear after the first time I fucked, it was all I wanted to do for, like, a year straight.”

Nakita’s chest rumbles. “Yeah. I remember. You were worse than a cat in heat, I swear.”

“Oh, shut up! Like you can really complain.”

A snort escapes Alana as the two of them bicker. Opposites, yet mirrors of one another, those two. Sun and moon. Earth and sky. Nakita, with her deep skin, jet black braids, and striking features that could rival a runway model. She had a reserved moodiness about her, but was the most genuine person she’s ever met. And while Lilith had a complexion that rivals the paleness of moonlight itself, her personality was as bright as the flowers that decorate the town on the first days of spring.

“Aww, wait, so Kita was your first?” Alana asks. She’s such a sucker for shit like this.

“Mmhm!” Lilith beams. Her slender, hooded eyes sparkle with perpetual excitement. “We were attending college. But this was waaaay before it was as socially acceptable to be a monster, so we both had human disguises. But, obviously, since we were both vamps, we were able to sus each other out right away. We were pining for the longest time, but one night there was this dorm party, right?” She sits up from her spot, grinning ear to ear as she continues, “ Some asshole jock stereotype was already drunk off his ass not even half past midnight. Wouldn’t take a hint when I told him I wasn’t interested. He starts getting kind of grabby, and before I can even do anything, Nakita is dragging his ass to the closest bathroom. Must have scared him shitless with whatever she did, because the man had piss stains on his shorts when he ran out. Never bothered me again.”

Nakita shrugs. “Idiot deserved it, what can I say?”

“He did,” Lilith confirms. “But I mean, come on. I couldn’t not make a move on her after that, right? It’s the sweetest, hottest thing anyone’s ever done for me!”

Alana laughs. She’d be hard-pressed to resist if she’d been in Lilith’s position; no ifs, ands, or buts about it. Sometimes, she wishes college could have been like that for her. She’d dated around where she could, ever hopeful of fulfilling her fantasy of a campus-bound love story. Whenever she managed to find someone she considered a keeper, she’d set a boundary on holding off on anything sexual until they were further along in the relationship. Then, like clockwork, their interest would die.

Her smile fades, and she slumps into her seat to prop her feet up on one of the moving boxes scattered around the apartment. “I think I’m too in over my head.”

Nakita and Lilith share a look, and the vampire launches out of her lap. Before she can so much as react, she lifts Alana by the arms like she weighs nothing at all.

“Ow! Hey—”

“Nuh, uh. None of that self-doubt bullshit.” Nakita interrupts. “This experience is meant to be worry-free, fluid, and fun. You’re a totally hot, totally sweet, smart, funny, badass babe.

You’ve got this. You’re meeting up with him on Saturday, right?

That gives us three days to prepare and get your mind right.”

“What do you mean?” Alana squeaks, a swell rising at the back of her throat. It’s Lilith’s Cheshire grin that makes her feel the need to run for the hills.

“We mean,” she begins, “that there’s so much we ought to do before your hookup! We can go shopping, get your nails done, or get a massage. Whatever it takes to get you ready to grab the bull by the horns. Or, in this case, the wolf by the knot?” Her giggle sends red burning across Alana’s neck. She really shouldn’t. She can’t. There’s so much to get done for the bakery between now and then. Online orders, restocks. More important things than getting all dolled up for a man from the internet. On the other hand…

It’s been a long time since she’s treated herself to anything. A shame, considering how often it used to be an aspect of her monthly routine. Darling women knew two things: hard work and how to pamper themselves. There was a time her mom and Nana wouldn’t go longer than a few weeks without indulging. Spa days, mani-pedis, weekly scalp treatments. “Every time a black woman allows herself a moment of luxury, an angel gains their wings,” they used to tell her. But with a business to run now, it was just another thing she didn’t have time for anymore. The long hours spent working day after day—planning, payroll, inventory.

Alana bites the inside of her cheek.