by Kat T. Masen
Charlie apparently met Maxim back in LA at some fashion event. When she found out he lived in Paris, and knowing I have been single forever, she put two and two together.
“Fine,” I complain, opening my eyes. “Can you tell me more about Gustave?”
“No, because every time I tell you something, you forget anyway or use it as an excuse not to go.”
“I do not.”
“Just go on the date and report back later,” she coaxed, then quickly cheers, “Good luck.”
“Since you’re the one setting me up, I’m going to need it.”
***
I have to give it to Gustave. He chose a fine restaurant, which I know for a fact is difficult to get into and rather expensive.
He sits across from me, dressed nicely in a pale green shirt and gray trousers. Without asking his age, he appears more mature with dark brown hair with a few grays near his temple. When he smiles, several creases surround his blue eyes. I’d peg him for early forties, which doesn’t bother me so much these days.
Gustave peruses the wine list, keeping quiet and leaving an uncomfortable silence between us.
“Ça vous dérange si je parle anglais?” I ask him if we can speak English, given my exhaustion from working nonstop the last few hours. I can barely compute a sentence in English, let alone French. Clearly, the excess caffeine is wearing off.
“Oui.” He smiles, placing the menu down. “Do you like wine?”
“Who doesn’t?” I jest, welcoming the topic.
Gustave turns out to be a food critic. Our conversation steers to only that. He offers to choose our meals, which I agree to, but Gustave’s face looks less than pleased with the plate sitting in front of him when the waiter serves us.
We eat in silence, his face relatively blank with each bite he takes.
“Do you not like the food here?”
“It’s mediocre,” he responds flatly.
I start to wonder if people are watching us, trying to make sense of what the purpose is of us dining together since I can’t. Unlike Gustave, I immensely enjoy the French delicacy and can’t fault a single dish served tonight.
A plate of various cheeses is served, placed between us. In authentic French culture, cheese is consumed after the main dish but before dessert. Since I enjoy cheese, I don’t see a problem with this at all.
“Cheese is a delicacy. If done right, it’s the most satisfying meal,” he speaks, slicing a small piece for himself.
I have no clue what to say to that but need something quick. “Cheese is rather satisfying.”
Wow, Kate—electrifying.
“The smellier the cheese, the better.” He raises the cheese toward my face. “Here, smell this?”
Leaning in, I take a sniff, immediately scrunching my nose at the godawful stench. “Amazing, isn’t it?”
“So, you like cheese?” I nod, quick to change subjects before I fall asleep. “Tell me about your family?”
“My father owned a delicatessen and curated his own cheese. My mother worked with him for over fifty years.
“And siblings?”
“No, just me.” He raises another piece of cheese, prompting me to sniff it. This one is even worse.
“And what about traveling? What do you like to do in your spare time?”
“Not much these days.” A smile graces his lips, and I wait with bated breath for a funny anecdote. “Comté vieux is aged over six months. By far exceeds the rest of the cheeses.”
This date is going downhill so fast, as I wait for anything that doesn’t involve cheese. By the end of the date, I probably could’ve gotten a degree in cheese. Hands down, this can officially top one of the worst dates in history.
“Thanks for tonight, Gustave.” I yawn forcefully, hoping he reads between the lines as he calls the waiter over and requests the bill. “I’ve learned a lot about cheese.”
“It was a pleasure, Kate.” Gustave kisses both my cheeks to say goodbye. “Shall I call you tomorrow?”
I pat his shoulder politely. “It’s probably best you don’t.”
Not wanting to watch his reaction, I turn around quickly and leave the restaurant, hailing a cab that happens to drive past.
As soon as I’m back in my apartment, I take off my heels and hit dial with a vengeance.
“Hello?”
“You’re kidding me, right?”
“What?” Charlie groans. “No good?”
“How about we talk about cheese for an hour?”
“Why?”
“Exactly!”
“I’m so sorry. Gustave seemed like a great guy. When he told me he was a food critic, I thought perfect! You like food, right?”
“I do like food, but what I don’t like is being forced to smell cheese and pretend it’s just great when really it smells like an asshole.”
“How do you even know what an asshole smells like?”
“No more. I can’t do this blind date thing anymore. In fact, dating itself is over. I’m happy to be celibate. The end.”
“Just calm down, okay?” Charlie sighs. “No one needs to be celibate. It sounds like you’ve had too much to drink or too much cheese.”
I’m about to defend my choice of being celibate when my phone vibrates. Removing the phone from my ear, I quickly glance at the text.
My heart begins to beat fast, excitement running through my veins. Every inch of my body reacts with a desperate thirst, heightened by the currents awakening every part of me. Charlie’s voice is lost in the background, and with desperation, I hurry to get her off the phone.
“Charlie, I have to go. I need to be in the office early.”
“I’m sorry, Kate.”
“It’s fine,” I rush. “Kiss the girls for me. Bye.”
I press ‘end call’ and re-read the text.
Dominic: I’ll be in Paris next Friday. Shall I book our usual?
I fall onto the sofa, re-reading his text again before my fingers type on their own accord.
Me: Our usual will be perfect. See you then.
Within mere moments, my idea of being celibate has sailed into the night.
Dominic Kennedy is back.
And my body suddenly craves everything I know he’ll give me.
Raw, animalistic sex.
No attachments.
No expectations.
The best kind.
KATE
Four Years Ago
The business card sat between my fingers while I stared at it for the hundredth time that day.
After we left Vivian’s birthday party a few nights ago, I made no mention to Eric about my encounter with Dominic. Even if I had said something, I highly doubt he’d have heard since all he could talk about was Thiago. With a gentle reminder, I mentioned Tristan’s name to bring him back to reality. Eric tended to focus on the wrong thing at times, especially when he’s trying to avoid heartbreak.
“I’m in the prime of my life, Kate. This is as good as I’ll ever look,” he had cried loudly.
“You’re ridiculous. Age can make a man look even sexier. And besides, there’s always Botox.”
Eric slapped his hand to his chest. “Are you looking at my forehead?”
“No,” I dragged, avoiding his eyes. “Stop overreacting. You’re missing the point entirely. Love isn’t defined by how one looks. You need to have trust in your relationship, or it will never work.”
I shook my head to rid myself of the memory. Who was I to give relationship advice? Unless, of course, it’s how to be in a relationship with your job. That, I had mastered like a pro. The longest relationship I had was for a year. Even then, I’d barely call it a relationship since he lived in Australia, and I was jetting between the States and London at the time.
Yet something about Dominic piqued my curiosity in ways I hadn’t felt in such a long time, if ever. Like a moth to a flame, I’m drawn to the mystery of a man who raised questions even I had asked myself. It’s almost as if he climbed into my soul, studied what
I had been feeling, and repeated it back word for word.
I want to call him. A part of me is unable to shake the moment which passed between us. But what if I’m so desperate for a moment that I’d worked it up in my imagination. The temptation taunted me like a delicious piece of candy, and unable to resist any longer, I made an executive decision to send him a text.
Me: Hey, Dominic. It’s Kate from last weekend. Thanks again for the chat. It was nice meeting you.
The second I hit send, I regretted it instantly. There was absolutely no substance to that text. If I’d gotten a text like that, I’d hit delete faster than you could say next.
A shrill echoed through my office, the ring of my phone startled me and caused my body to jump slightly from my chair. Clasping my hand toward my chest to calm my racing heart, I answered the call professionally, noting the private number.
“Kate Hamilton.”
“Hello, Kate, I’ve been waiting for you to contact me,” a deep voice greeted, an edge of persistence in his tone.
“Who’s this?” I asked, still catching my breath. “Dominic?”
“Yes, the man you texted mere moments ago. I don’t bite, you know, you could’ve called me.”
Embarrassed, I closed my eyes, trying to act adult and not give him a cowardly answer. I couldn’t understand why I felt somewhat intimidated by a man. Inside the office, I had no problem being a strong, confident woman. I demanded things, and I always got what I wanted.
Straightening my posture, I smiled politely, though he couldn’t see me.
“Look, I wasn’t sure if you would remember me. Better to be safe than sorry.”
“How could I not remember you? A beautiful woman like yourself is simply unforgettable.”
There’s that word again being thrown around like it didn’t affect me whatsoever. I’d been called beautiful many times, but the power he had over me only added to the mystery of it all. Perhaps, I’d been overthinking our encounter. He was a stranger, after all, and one who expressed twice now what he thought of me.
“I’m slightly hurt,” he asserted with an air of arrogance. “I was expecting a call sooner.”
“Work gets in the way. You know how it is.”
“Yes, exactly. Work does get in the way,” he stated, pausing only momentarily. “Are you free for drinks tonight?”
I could do drinks. What’s the harm in a friendly drink? Except you want more than just a drink, moron.
“Sure, I’ll come straight from work.”
He told me he’d text me the details but gave me some directions. I listened intently, jotting down what he’d said until he said he needed to go.
“Tonight, Kate, I’ll be waiting for you.”
“See you then, Dominic.”
I hung up on the call. My legs were crossed, controlling this desire which flushed through my body with every word he spoke. A gentle knock on my door from my assistant broke my train of thought and brought me back to reality.
All work and no play—my life as I know it.
***
The bar was located in the meat-packing district. Eric brought me here a few times back when he lived in the city, but I wasn’t familiar with the area for the most part. I entered the building, noticing the surroundings being a typical bar with buzzing patrons and music to set the ambiance.
Wooden stools butted up against the brass foot rail caught my attention, as did the back wall with several glass shelves housing every bottle of liquor you could think of. I desperately needed something to calm my growing nerves, so I headed straight to the bar to quench my thirst.
The bartender was quick to serve me, just as fast as downing a gin and tonic in almost under a minute. When I began to feel my limbs loosen, a hand pressed on the small of my back.
Dominic appeared beside me, looking incredibly sexy in a gray blazer with a white collared shirt slightly unbuttoned beneath it. He wore his glasses again, the bane of my existence. How can something so simple be so goddamn sexy?
“You’re here,” I said, surprised to see him thinking he’d ditch the drinks.
“I’m not one to stand up a stunning woman like yourself.”
Dominic motioned for me to take a seat on one of the barstools. As my eyes scanned the area, noticing a few empty tables and chairs in a more intimate spot, I questioned why he wanted to hang at the bar. Loitering at the bar area was where singles generally hang out, hoping to strike up a conversation with someone else or quickly get away if the date wasn’t going as planned.
“Nice bar,” I commented, admiring the wood-grain countertop.
“Thank you. I own it.”
I turn my head to face him with curiosity. “You own this bar?”
Thankfully, I didn’t say it was a shit hole.
Actually, it was far from it. It had a certain ambiance, which was relaxing, unlike many of the other places around here. Many patrons were dressed in corporate wear like me, unwinding with drinks after what had probably been a hectic day in the office.
“This, and a few other places.”
“Eric never mentioned what you did.”
“That’s because Eric doesn’t know.” He motioned for the bartender to serve me another drink before he suggested we take this to a more private area. Thank God, I had started to get a complex of his intentions. “I want to show you something.”
We walked upstairs, and taking my hand, he entered a code on a security panel just outside the door. My heart was beating fast, about to fall out of my chest and ready to go into cardiac arrest on the floor. I had no idea why, as this wasn’t my first rodeo with a man.
The room was dark, only a glimmer of light coming from a large window. Oddly so, the window didn’t appear to be facing outside, and from where I stood, it looked like it had a view of another room.
Dominic stopped me in my tracks, quickly standing before me and blocked my vision toward the window.
“I want you to relax, take it in, and don’t think about anything else.”
My nerves mix in with confusion. Was he going to fuck me in this room? A part of me was scared. I’d never done anything like this with someone I barely knew. But my body betrayed me, the sensations swam freely and clouded any rational judgment I should have had at that moment.
“I don’t understand?” I stuttered, staring into his eyes.
“Do you trust me?”
I hardly knew him, let alone be able to trust him. Yet he’s Eric’s brother, and surely, our ties should cement the fact that he wasn’t taking me to a dungeon to kidnap me.
“I trust you,” I repeated, lowering my voice.
He moved behind me and motioned for me to step closer to the window. With every step forward, my eyes widened until the view of the room beneath us consumed my vision.
Men and women filled the room, some old and some young. Some wore clothes, and many were completely exposed. The more I stared below, the more it began to sink it. It must have been a sex club of some sort, given many people were in compromising positions.
My eyes were drawn to a woman on all fours, sucking a man off while two men behind her take turns entering her. Beside them, an older couple were fucking on their own, completely naked as people circled them and watched.
“A sex club,” I mouthed, trying to gather my thoughts. “This is a sex club.”
“It’s a place for people to let go of their inhibitions.”
“Do you—”
“No,” he stated firmly.
“Wait, so you just watch from here?”
“Occasionally, but not often.”
“I don’t understand?”
“I manage the business. I connect important people with people willing to fulfill their needs. See, much like yourself, people don’t have time for relationships, but it doesn’t mean their sexual desires aren’t important. I’ve created a place where people can express themselves, explore their desires, and walk away without the complication of being tied down to one person.”
I
tried to process it all but kept coming up with questions. I watched behind the window, and perhaps with Dominic standing so close to me, my body began to betray me. But then my mind shifted to Eric. He had mentioned these places as a joke. He’d have a heart attack knowing his brother was involved in such a business.
Dominic moved closer, trapping me before the glass. Yet he didn’t touch me, nor make a move, and his body being inches away ignited a flame which had long been burning down to almost nothing.
“Does it scare you?”
“Yes,” I whispered, barely holding my breath. “I don’t know. I’m not sure what it makes me feel.”
“Just watch.”
There was nothing to do but watch. Two women were in a scissor position. Again, there was a small crowd surrounding them while they continued to move. A young man was standing against a wall, two mature women on their knees as they took turns giving him a blow job. My eyes diverted around the room, all the while trying to ignore the pulsating throb between my thighs.
“So, you don’t have sex down there with people?”
“No.”
“Never?”
“Never,” he repeated.
“So, if we dated, what does that mean?”
A small pocket of air gushed behind as he pulled away, forcing me to turn around. Dominic created distance between us as if he couldn’t stand to be near me anymore.
“Perhaps I didn’t make myself clear, Kate. I don’t date. I don’t have relationships. This is who I am. I don’t mix business with pleasure.”
Touching the base of my neck, I narrowed my gaze on him. “So why did you bring me here?”
“Because I could see it in your eyes. Your desire to have a man touch you intimately.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand?” I interjected, crossing my arms in defiance. “You don’t want to touch me?”
