by Tina Michele
“Ms. Blake, Ms. Dencourt, lovely to see you here.”
Morgan looked up and saw Adele and Director Foillot standing in the aisle. Surprised to see him, Morgan stood and gleefully embraced him. “Director Foillot, it is so wonderful to see you again. Please sit.” Morgan motioned to the two open seats next to hers.
Lee offered a friendly handshake to her friends. “Yes, please.”
Morgan was glad to have the support from the three most important and influential people in her life, even if they weren’t there specifically for her. When the auctioneer took his place behind the podium, the entire room hushed into silence. He welcomed everyone with a brief introduction and announced the first lot with an opening bid of one hundred thousand dollars. He spoke in calm English with a heavy French accent as he acknowledged bids around the room. Morgan had half expected a whirl of waving paddles and shouts of frenzied bidders, but it was far more elegant and subdued than that.
Relaxed millionaires, museum curators, and spectators watched intently but quietly as the bidding ensued. Morgan took mental notes of their casual techniques and nonchalant facial expressions. As long as she reminded herself to stay calm, she could easily play along. When Lee touched her leg, Morgan felt a serene sense of ease, until the auctioneer presented Lot 230, the Veronese. She felt the excitement swell inside her, accompanied by the anxious racing of her heart. He opened the bid as expected at one point five million, but before Morgan could raise her paddle five bidders increased the cost by one hundred thousand in seconds.
Her heart dropped as she watched the currency calculator tick upward with each raise. Lee squeezed her leg, and Morgan flung her paddle into the air. Several eyes flashed in her direction as she raised the bid to two point two million. The rush of adrenaline was quickly overshadowed by several more bids that followed hers. Lee squeezed her leg again, and Morgan bid another hundred thousand. She was suddenly thankful for Lee’s presence and her subtle signals.
At four million dollars, Morgan raised the bid. The competing bidders slowly dwindled to a dedicated handful as the price reached five million. To Morgan’s surprise, they had reached the estimated selling price and quickly exceeded it. Each time Lee gently squeezed her leg Morgan increased her bid. At seven million, the active bidding was between herself and two participants on the phone. “Lee?” She looked at Lee with fear and concern that she may lose the piece.
“Relax. Keep going.”
Morgan flipped her paddle again at eight million, but the phone bidders were now increasing their advances by two hundred and fifty thousand. Morgan froze as the battle continued between the people on the phone, expanding by nearly two million dollars. At ten and a half million, Morgan began to panic and flashed her paddle. It was quickly countered by only one bidder as the other remained silent as he held the phone to his ear. Morgan had only one more shot. Lee squeezed her leg once more, and Morgan offered the full eleven million she was allocated. She held her breath and prayed that she wasn’t countered. Several long and grueling seconds passed as the auctioneer asked for more bids. Silence covered the room like a thick blanket. Spectators flashed glances between Morgan and the man on the phone with her competition.
Morgan heard the auctioneer, “And selling…”
Her heart fluttered with excitement until she heard it: “Eleven two.”
Her fluttering heart dropped like lead into her stomach, and she gasped. She’d lost it. The crowning achievement for the Dencourt and her success as a curator was gone.
*
Lee’s stomach flopped when she heard Morgan’s barely audible gasp. She would have guaranteed that Morgan and the Dencourt would have walked away with the masterpiece. But at the last possible moment, it was ripped from her hands. Lee’s heart broke as she watched the tears well up in Morgan’s eyes. Director Foillot and Adele patted and cooed at her, but Morgan didn’t even notice their attentions. As the auctioneer called final bids, Lee flashed her paddle. “Twelve!” she shouted.
The entire room spun in her direction, including Morgan. “What are you doing?”
“I’m buying a painting.” Lee grinned.
The auctioneer offered the other bidder a chance to counter, and everyone in the room held a collective breath. Seconds passed as he whispered into the phone. He tapped his hand on the wall as he waited for direction from his client. A voice from the front pierced the silence and asked once again for an offer, but the man just shook his head. Morgan gasped beside Lee as the auctioneer’s gavel clapped against the block, “Sold to Ms. Ainsley Dencourt of the Dencourt Gallery.”
The smile on Morgan’s face was enough to melt even the coldest of hearts. Before the next lot was announced, Lee, Morgan, Adele, and Director Foillot made their way out of the auditorium.
When they made it to the lobby Morgan wrapped her arms around Lee’s neck and kissed her hard on the lips. “I can’t believe you did that. The board is going to shit, Lee!”
“I am the board, remember? And if I have to, I’ll pay the overage myself. I told you, we weren’t leaving here without it.” Lee had meant it, she just didn’t know how until that very last moment. Lee loved the way Morgan’s eyes sparkled and breath quickened when she was around beautiful works of art, and she wouldn’t have forgiven herself if she had let that spark slip away.
“Thank you so much, Lee. I don’t know what else to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything. That look you are giving me right now is more than enough.” Lee stepped back and grabbed Morgan’s hands. “So, if we are finished here, I have reservations for Chateau le Dencourt this evening.”
“I am all yours.”
Lee’s mind flashed back to the night before, and a fire built deep inside her. “Mmmm. Excellent.” Lee and Morgan said their good-byes and thanks to Director Foillot and Adele and promised that they would stop by the museum before they left Paris. While Lee had never missed an opportunity to wander the Louvre, this time she had much different plans, and they didn’t involve leaving her flat.
Chapter Twenty-six
Morgan and Lee spent the last few days in Paris visiting all the tourist spots and reenacting their first date complete with the restaurant and a latte. But this time they kissed freely like amorous lovers in the park before they were forced to return home wrapped in each other’s arms.
Morgan was sad to leave Paris but excited to return home with a beautiful woman she simply couldn’t get enough of. She was nearly as excited to get home and jump into the final stages of the exhibition. The beautiful Veronese would arrive within days, and the rest of the collection was proceeding smoothly through cleaning and preparation. As long as Rita was staying on top of the process, but after the auction disaster, she had her doubts. Once the construction was complete and the pieces were mounted, it would be time for the opening. The feat that Morgan was attempting should have taken nearly eighteen months, yet she was determined to make it in six. She was more determined than ever to succeed.
“I’m not sure what I have in the fridge, but would you like to come over for dinner tonight?” Morgan asked as they walked to the airport parking garage and Lee’s car.
“You’re going to cook for me?” Lee smiled as she took Morgan’s hand in hers.
Morgan entwined her fingers and couldn’t help but notice how perfect they fit together. “I’m not really a great cook, but I can make a meatloaf. Wait—I don’t think I have any meat to loaf.”
Lee laughed. “There will be time for a loaf another day. I’ve got stuff at my place. How about I cook for you?”
“That sounds way better.” Morgan squeezed Lee’s hand and smiled.
“I’m not sure I have anything for dessert though.”
“Oh, you do, but we will have to heat it up first.” Morgan winked.
“Mmm, so dessert first then?” They both laughed.
*
Morgan wandered around the apartment while Lee gathered miscellaneous ingredients in the kitchen. Morgan could make meatloaf, pasta
sauce, and homemade chili; anything else required a recipe and preferably a dinner guest with a sense of adventure and an iron stomach. She wasn’t bad, but her degree definitely didn’t cover the culinary arts. Morgan meandered back to the kitchen where Lee stood in front of the stove working away. Morgan slipped her arms around Lee’s waist and her stomach growled.
“Me hungry.” Morgan gave her best caveman impression.
Lee laughed. “Almost done.” She put a cover on the pan and turned in Morgan’s arms.
“It smells wonderful. What is it?”
“Lemon and caper chicken,” Lee said before she planted a kiss on Morgan’s lips.
“Me more hungry now.” Morgan laughed before she finished the sentence.
Lee laughed with her and pointed to the cabinets. “Can you get the plates and such out while I finish this? Because the sooner we eat the sooner we can have dessert.” Lee dipped her head, this time kissing Morgan slowly and deeply, nearly melting her to the floor.
“Dessert plates. On it!” Morgan joked when Lee let her go.
They ate dinner quickly out of a two-fold hunger. After clearing plates and wiping down the counters, Morgan and Lee stood separated by the kitchen island staring at each other expectantly.
“So…shower?” Morgan asked, and before she could blink, Lee was on her side of the counter. Clearly caveman inspired, Lee grabbed her arm and practically dragged her down the hallway to the bedroom.
*
Lee started the shower for Morgan and motioned for her to get in. “Go ahead and get in. I’ll get your towels and something for you to wear.”
Morgan feigned a sad face and spoke in a Southern belle accent. “All by my lil’ lonesome? In this big ol’ shower?”
“How many voices do you have?” Lee laughed.
“Mor ’an you’ll eva wanna ’ear govnah,” Morgan said in a terrible but comical British attempt.
“Oh my.” Lee sighed and walked away as Morgan undressed and got in.
When Lee returned with the towels, she stopped in the doorway and watched Morgan through the hazy glass. There were patches of steam and condensation blurring out important parts of the image. Morgan was funny and smart and so sexy that Lee wanted to talk to her and make love to her every chance she could. There wasn’t a minute that she didn’t want Morgan to fill up in one way or another. The thought sent a flame through her body, heart, and soul.
Lee removed her clothes and stepped into the shower. Morgan’s head was back under the spray rinsing shampoo from her long hair. Lee watched as the fleeing suds ran down the front of her body like tiny rivers and streams over a luscious, curving landscape. Smooth peaks and valleys directed each flow as if laying out a pattern for Lee’s tongue to follow. Without thinking, Lee dipped her head and took one of the peaks into her mouth, turning it into a tight pebble with her tongue. Morgan moaned and weaved her fingers through Lee’s hair, pulling her closer. Lee released her breast, ran her hands up Morgan’s chest to her shoulders, and spun her around.
Lee pulled Morgan back tightly into her. Morgan instantly ground her ass into Lee’s groin making Lee groan with anticipation. She released one hand from Morgan’s waist and followed a track of water down Morgan’s belly and between her legs where she was wet from more than water. Lee dipped her fingers into Morgan and ran a firm finger back and forth over Morgan’s clitoris causing Morgan to buck and bend forward and reach for the wall in front of her. Lee continued to press and stroke Morgan as she quickly brought her to her breaking point. With quick breaths and low moans, Morgan contracted around Lee’s hand and came for her.
*
Morgan leaned back into Lee’s body, feeling lightheaded and spent from both pleasure and the relaxing heat of the steaming shower. Morgan reached back behind her to find the smooth center of the body that still held her tight. She stroked once, twice until Lee moved away. “Are you okay?” Morgan turned and asked at the sudden absence.
“Yes and no. Yes, because I am so ready for you, but no, because I have to wash my hair first.”
“Oh.” Morgan laughed. “Well, I’ll leave you to it and see you in a few.” Morgan kissed Lee. First quickly but then returning for a longer and deeper one, making sure Lee knew what was in store when she finished her shower.
Morgan dried off but instead of putting on the T-shirt Lee had laid out for her. She pulled back the covers and slid under the cool sheets to wait for Lee. She watched the doorway to the bathroom waiting for a glimpse of Lee’s wet body. When it appeared, she couldn’t contain a deep moan of appreciation. She’d always loved the body of a woman both in art and in life, but there was something about Lee’s that lit her own body into a blazing bonfire.
Lee made her way to the bed after placing her towel on its rightful hook, and Morgan stared up at her. “Are you coming willfully, or am I going to have to force you?” Morgan asked as she threw back the covers exposing her naked body.
“You could force me to do anything that way,” Lee said as she slid into bed next to Morgan.
“Wait till I show you what else I can make you do.” Morgan moved in close, settled the length of her body against Lee’s, and teased a nipple between her fingers.
Lee groaned, wrapped both arms around Morgan, and rolled until Morgan’s whole body pressed down on top of hers. Morgan brushed her lips over Lees. “Now what?” she whispered before running her tongue along Lee’s bottom lip.
Lee opened her mouth and touched her tongue to Morgan’s. Lee cupped Morgan’s face and pulled her down for a full, passionate, and hungry kiss that fueled the fire burning between Morgan’s thighs.
Morgan pushed herself up and straddled Lee’s hips, grinding herself into where their bodies connected. Lee lifted her hips, pushing up into Morgan as she rocked her body into Lee’s. When Lee slipped her hand between them, Morgan moaned. “Oh. Yes.” She leaned back and gave Lee more room to access her fully, Morgan slipped her own hand behind her easily finding Lee hot and wet, just for her.
Morgan ran her fingers through Lee’s smooth heat and felt Lee jerk under her. She continued to stroke simultaneously with the speed and rhythm that Lee was using on her. “Oh my God. Right there. Oh yeah…. Jesus…”
Lee inserted two fingers, and Morgan tightened around her, adding two fingers of her own into Lee, giving exactly what she received. When Lee added a well-placed thumb to Morgan’s clitoris, Morgan gasped and matched the move, drawing an identical gasp from Lee.
“I’m going to come. Come with me, baby,” Morgan breathed
“I am, love. I am.”
Morgan shuddered and jolted as she collapsed onto Lee’s chest. She felt Lee’s heart beat in her chest in near perfect harmony with her own.
Morgan slid off and curled into the side of Lee’s smooth and pulsing body. She fell into a sated and dreamless sleep wrapped in the arms of a woman she was more than certain was her very own priceless masterpiece. A masterpiece that she loved more than any other in the world.
*
A few days later, chaos was in full swing at the gallery once the Veronese arrived from France. Lee watched Morgan and her staff work day and night to complete the exhibition construction. The floors were complete and the walls were nearly ready to be draped in thousands of yards of fabric. Lee fielded calls for interviews and inquiries into the project while Morgan locked herself away in the Albert Randall Gallery. Lee didn’t like not being able to see or talk to Morgan during the day, and at night she was so exhausted that she barely managed to stay awake long enough to eat dinner, let alone make love. Lee didn’t mind especially when she was content to stand silently in a corner or doorway just to watch her work.
It was during one of her quiet visits that Lee overheard the gossip for the first time. As Lee peered around the thick plastic sheeting that hung in the doorway, two employees stood tucked against the wall. Oblivious to her presence, they snickered and whispered about the many different ways Morgan had slept her way into the position. Lee’s temper boiled. She wanted
to confront them for their remarks, but she had a better idea. She quickly made her way back to her office and told Alex to schedule a mandatory all-hands meeting. Lee made it after hours in order to help make her point.
After closing, every gallery employee gathered in the large open lobby. Some of them milled about and grumbled under their breath about the inconvenient and last-minute disruption to their day. Lee didn’t care in the slightest. She stepped up behind the raised docent desk and addressed the staff. “Thank you all for coming. There are a couple of announcements that I wanted to make. First, it is my pleasure to announce the rare and extraordinary acquisition of Paolo Veronese’s Venus Disarming Cupid. Our curator, Ms. Blake, secured this beautiful piece for the upcoming Venus: Beauty Revealed exhibition in the Albert Randall gallery.”
Most of the room clapped and congratulated Morgan, while several others with crossed arms sneered and rolled their eyes. Lee expected it, yet it still infuriated her.
“Secondly, it has come to my attention that we have a problem with gossip here at the Dencourt.” Lee scanned the faces that looked back at her. It was obvious that the guilty parties knew who they were, and it pleased her. “Unfortunately, I was witness to a very disturbing and disheartening discussion about the private lives of two of our employees.” Lee had not seen them earlier that afternoon, however, as they glanced at each other with surprise, she had confirmation. “I will tell you all this, right now. Gossip, about anyone, will not be tolerated. We are a family, and we do not spread lies or vulgarities about members of our family. Is that understood?”
Several people shook their heads or spoke in affirmation. But Lee was not content with that minimal response so she asked again, “Is that understood?” The second question elicited a loud rumble of acknowledgements from everyone. “Excellent, because I really would hate to have to fire a family member. Thank you, that’s all.”
