by Kim Baldwin
Chapter Five
“Kash! Welcome.” The doorman of Vive la Vie recognized her at once. “How nice of you to honor us with a visit. See Vanessa, at the back bar. She’ll make sure you’re treated right.” He stepped aside to admit the three of them, to a chorus of groans from the long line of women waiting in line outside.
It was midnight and the place was crowded, and the booming, driving beat of the music pulsed inside Isabel like a second heartbeat as Kash led them through the throng of bodies.
The club was immense, easily four or five times larger than any of the lesbian bars or clubs she’d visited back home. And scores of beautiful women, dressed to seduce and excite, preened in their perfect hair and makeup, and gyrated in amazingly explicit displays on the dance floor.
No, this was in no way like the bars back in Wisconsin.
Vive la Vie was a sleek, hip space, with modern décor. Square steel columns surrounding the central dance floor created dark and intimate seating areas behind them, with low square couches and matching hassock chairs. The lighting was dim throughout, except for the revolving spots of color on the dancers, so the pink-red neon balustrade around the long bar at the back stood out like a beacon. A matching neon strip on the rail led to an upper-level mezzanine, where more low couches gave their occupants a bird’s-eye view of the dancers below.
Gillian, a veteran of the club scene, had begged a stop back at their hotel after the photo shoot so she could change into the low-cut clingy top and miniskirt she’d purchased at a boutique in the Marais. “How cool is this, Iz. My, my, my.”
Kash also fit right in with the clientele. She was wearing low-cut black trousers with a wide-buckled belt, black leather boots, and a white shirt, impeccably tailored and crisply pressed.
Very hot, Isabel had thought when she’d spotted her getting off the elevator.
She herself hadn’t changed and still wore her lucky shirt and jeans. She never felt out of place and was comfortable, which was usually enough. She didn’t judge by appearances and hoped that others didn’t either.
But as they navigated through the dancing women, she noticed the vast difference in the way the crowd responded to each of them. All eyes focused on Kash, in the lead, some in recognition, some not, but all with interest. Many of the women weren’t at all shy either—licking their lips provocatively as they smiled or winked at her, or reaching out to lure her into a dance.
Since Kash was leading, she couldn’t see her face or gauge her reaction to this attention. And that bothered Isabel more than a little.
Gillian, following Kash, got a lot of appreciative looks, too, and approving smiles at the miniskirt; and Isabel saw at least a couple of women touch her or give her an affirmative nod, like see me later.
When the women encountered her and noticed what she was wearing, their faces registered…something else, usually surprise. Some openly disapproved, their expressions virtually screaming Who are you to be with Kash? Or they saw her only in passing, barely registering before they moved on to someone more interesting. No one tried to entice her to dance.
The assessment was superficial, by women she didn’t care one whit about, and so it shouldn’t have bothered her. But she had to admit that it did, at least a little. Shrug it off. I don’t have to let them get to me.
Meanwhile Kash claimed an empty space at the long bar, but before she could get the attention of the nearest bartender, an attractive brunette with short, spiky hair and Barbie-doll proportions tapped her shoulder.
“Welcome, Kash, we’re so pleased you could visit us tonight,” the woman said as she extended her hand. She spoke English like a Brit, with an underlying trace of a French accent. “I’m Vanessa, the manager.” They shook hands. “May I offer you and your friends a place on the mezzanine with a bit more privacy?”
Kash turned to Gillian and Isabel. “Sound okay to you?”
“Sure!” Gillian answered before Isabel could open her mouth.
“That would be very nice, Vanessa,” Kash said.
“What may I offer you to drink?” the manager asked as she waved over the nearest bartender.
“Vodka, on ice. Jewel of Russia, if you have it,” Kash answered.
“Yes, we do.” Vanessa smiled. “Ladies?”
“Screwdriver, please,” Isabel said.
“Bourbon, rocks. Jim Beam?” Gillian asked.
“Of course,” Vanessa said. “If you’ll follow me?”
She led them to the most secluded small sitting area on the mezzanine, separated from the rest of the upstairs by a privacy screen and cordoned off with a velvet rope. Obviously the VIP area, it had three plush leather couches and the best view of the dance floor.
“Excellent.” Kash turned to Vanessa as the bartender from downstairs arrived with their drinks. “Thank you, ladies. I’ll remember the hospitality you’ve shown us this evening.”
“Our pleasure. I’ll have one of my girls check in on you from time to time, to make sure you have everything you need.”
Vanessa had barely withdrawn when a statuesque woman with long blond hair and green eyes slipped past the privacy screen and headed straight toward Kash, intercepting her before she could sit.
Has to be a model, Isabel thought. She had much in common with the women who’d come to Kash’s studio. The same height, thin build, beautiful face, and perfect execution of hair, makeup, and clothes that bespoke professional help. Her miniskirt and heels made her seem all long, lean legs. She was stunning.
The surprise on Kash’s face as the blonde approached changed to vague recognition just before the woman planted a lingering kiss hello on Kash’s mouth.
“Damn,” Gillian whispered under her breath. She and Isabel had dropped onto one of the couches with their drinks and were watching the exchange with interest.
Yeah. Damn, Isabel concurred.
“What a surprise!” The stranger was bubbling over with excitement to see Kash. She had an accent, too, but Isabel wasn’t sure what it was. German, maybe.
Isabel watched Kash’s eyes narrow as though trying to place the woman.
It didn’t take long—a slow, sexy smile spread across her face right before she offered up where they’d met. “Amsterdam.”
“Yes.” The woman smiled back at Kash with the same sultry expression. “Hilde.”
“Hilde,” Kash repeated, looking her up and down. “How are you?”
“Very well, thank you.” She wore a low-cut blouse that showed considerable cleavage. “I have a featured role in a Tarantino film shooting here.”
“Congratulations,” Kash said.
“Thank you. What brings you to Paris? Business or pleasure?”
Kash glanced toward Isabel and Gillian, then back to the newcomer. “Business,” she answered. “Hilde, may I introduce Isabel and Gillian. Ladies, Hilde is a Dutch actress I…became acquainted with last year.”
“Nice to meet you,” the woman said politely in response to their hellos, though she barely glanced at either of them before returning her full attention to Kash. “So, are you engaged in business tonight?”
“Nooo,” Kash answered. A long, drawled response, as though she knew precisely what was coming.
“So you have the evening for pleasure?” the woman pressed, her smile growing.
Kash nodded.
“Have you already made plans?”
Kash shook her head, and the woman moistened her lips as she put her arm through Kash’s. “Then let me steal you for a dance?”
“If you’ll excuse me, ladies.” Kash allowed herself to be led away.
“Well, that didn’t take long,” Gillian grumped as soon as they were out of earshot. She took a big sip of her bourbon and watched them as they descended the stairs and joined the crowd below.
No shit, Isabel concurred, downing nearly half her drink. She had to support Gillian and what she wanted, but she certainly wouldn’t enjoy watching Kash live up to her sordid reputation. Not that she had much choice. From the VIP cou
ches they could easily see all of the dancers below.
The two were dancing close, very close, and Isabel couldn’t take her eyes off them. First they swayed face-to-face, their eyes pinned to each other. Hilde, a few inches taller, had her arms around Kash’s neck, while Kash had draped her hands loosely on the woman’s hips.
After a while, Kash spun Hilde around and hugged her from behind, and they gyrated hip to hip in a sensual bump and grind that was intoxicating to watch.
“Hey, so she ran into an old acquaintance.” She tried to sound flippant but sounded unconvincing even to herself. A drop-dead-gorgeous acquaintance. And I swear, they look like they’re going to have sex right here in front of us. “Maybe you’ll get a dance later with her. Or another night, in another club.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Gillian brightened. “I’ve got lots of time.”
They watched as the women dancing around Kash began to recognize her, many gravitating purposefully into her field of vision, trying to catch her eye. Now and then, one would dance close enough to rub a hip seductively against her or stroke her arm or back in passing.
“Boy, beautiful women sure throw themselves at her, don’t they?” Gillian sighed and took another long sip of bourbon.
“Don’t they, though,” Isabel agreed with a frown. And Kash seemed to be right in her element, soaking up all the attention from the women buzzing around her. She winked at some or briefly released Hilde now and then for a bit of dancing with one of her admirers. All the while she smiled this oh-yeah-show-me-some-more-baby smile and leered appreciatively at the women around her, precisely the way she had at Isabel that morning.
Isabel was startled to realize how envious of them she was. “Come on, Gill, you keep telling me to stop sitting on the sidelines. Time to get in the game. Let’s dance.”
The surprise on Gillian’s face quickly came and went. “All right, Izzy. That’s my girl!”
They joined the throng as a well-known song came on, a remix of an old disco tune that played a lot in the club back home. They broke up laughing and immediately got into the groove, grateful for the sweet reminder of home in their otherwise foreign environment. Around them, the murmured comments and come-ons they could overhear were mostly in French, but the music lyrics were all about “Hot Stuff,” which was a universal language.
Isabel was determined to try to forget about Kash and her growing harem and the fact that all the women in the place were acting as though she were invisible. None of that matters. I’m damn lucky to be in Europe, and I’m going to enjoy every minute.
And dancing with Gillian was always fun. They had a flirty ease with each other that was often mistaken for much more than the lighthearted frivolity between friends that it was. That was never truer than tonight, for the open sexuality in the air created an infectious spirit, and both caught the fever.
So Isabel put her hands around Gillian’s neck, and Gillian put her hands on Isabel’s hips, and pelvis to pelvis, they fell into a sensual dance every bit as hot and steamy-looking as the interactions all around them.
Their bodies were pressed so tightly together that Gillian had to lean in only a few inches to put her lips next to Isabel’s ear. They were very near one of the speakers, so it was the only way to be heard above the music. “Have I told you how proud I am of how I hardly recognize you?”
Isabel threw her head back and laughed. She barely recognized herself, either. Something was happening to her on this trip. She wasn’t sure what, or why it was happening now, but something was pushing her out of the controlled and structured rut her life had become. And though the change was a bit scary, it was incredibly liberating. She was almost literally waking up from a long sleep, to find a brighter and more vivid world.
When Kash happened to glimpse them through the crowd, Gillian had her thigh between Isabel’s legs and her hands on Isabel’s ass. Kash couldn’t really tell what was going on, but their body language and the way they were dancing made it crystal clear that both were gay, very close, and also, she realized, not nearly as conservatively naïve as she’d presumed.
Gillian glanced her way and smiled provocatively. The tilt of her eyebrow seemed to say, So, have you been thinking about my offer?
And Isabel—well, Isabel sure knew how to move on the dance floor. Nice ass. No trace of any inhibitions. Yes, indeed, maybe that threesome idea isn’t dead after all.
“Feels so good.” Hilde’s voice was husky, seductive, and very close to Kash’s ear. They were dancing tight against each other, front to front again, and she massaged Hilde’s ass as she watched Isabel shake hers. The combination of what she was doing and seeing thrilled her and began to arouse her, acutely. Then a buxom blonde, who actually resembled Isabel quite a bit, danced into Kash from behind, sandwiching her and thrusting her crotch into Kash’s ass. Fuck, yes.
Hilde kissed her, and she responded hungrily, thrusting her tongue into her mouth. But she soon missed the view she’d had, so she broke free and returned her attention to Isabel and Gillian, only to find Isabel staring intently at her with an interested but unreadable expression.
Kash let her attraction and desire show, returning Isabel’s heated stare with a seductive half-smile and faint nod.
Suddenly, Hilde put a hand firmly to her crotch and made her jump nearly out of her skin. Her trousers were paper thin and her clit so sensitive the touch jarred her.
Without breaking their dance, Kash removed the hand. That was not going to happen, no matter how turned on she was getting. She was too well known to be fucking in the middle of the dance floor. Not with all the cell-phone cameras in this room.
Isabel hadn’t taken her eyes off her, all the while continuing her sexy gyrations with Gillian. Kash wished she could better read what the woman was thinking. Damn, she can move.
“Kash.” Hilde pulled at her shirt.
When she turned her face to respond, Hilde kissed her possessively and put Kash’s hand on her breast. Again, Kash knew better than to let that happen; several of the women around them had recognized her. But she had a real weakness for that particular body part, and she could feel Hilde’s hard nipple through the sheer fabrics she wore, so she couldn’t help but linger there a few seconds.
Kash hazily recognized a flash, but she had no clue where it came from. You asked for that. Much as she wanted to denounce those who took such pictures of her, she knew she really couldn’t; to do so was hypocrisy. She was the ultimate voyeur herself and believed that anything viewed through her lens was fair game. You hate not being the one in control, that’s all. But you can’t choose only the perks of celebrity and none of the downsides. Not if you insist on coming to clubs and groping women at every turn.
She glanced around but didn’t see anyone with a camera or phone. Her eyes met Isabel’s, and Isabel pointed to a dark-haired woman barely out of her teens standing a few feet away. When Kash stared at her unflinchingly, the young fan averted her eyes, blushing, and tried to hide her cell phone behind her body.
Kash extracted some bills from her wallet. “I need that phone.” She was friendly but firm as she held out five fifty-dollar bills, and after only a brief hesitation, the young woman sold her the phone.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean anything.”
Yeah, I’ve heard that before.
Vanessa suddenly appeared at Kash’s elbow. “Is there a problem here, Kash? Is she bothering you?”
“No, we’re good,” Kash replied, and tucked the cell phone into her pocket. A hand seized her elbow.
“Let’s go upstairs.” Hilde tugged her resolutely toward the stairway.
Kash allowed herself to be led, glancing toward Isabel and Gillian as she and Hilde left the dance floor. Other couples now blocked her view, and though she couldn’t thank Isabel as she’d intended, she figured she’d have ample time.
Once she reached the upper level, she spotted them again in the crowd below. To her surprise, a third woman had joined their sensual dance. An attractive, butchy brun
ette had sidled up to Gillian and was fondling her from behind, and the trio was previewing a delicious visual appetizer for the threesome she hoped for later.
“No cameras here,” Hilde purred in her ear as she pulled Kash down on one of the couches.
The next thing she knew, Hilde was straddling her, pushing down against her, and of their own volition, her hips began to answer with slow, rhythmic thrusts. The short skirt that Hilde was wearing had hitched up, exposing the soft ivory skin of her endless thighs, and Kash traced lightly along the sensitive flesh in a teasing path intended to heighten Hilde’s excitement. From the moans she was hearing she was having the desired effect.
“You’re driving me crazy,” Hilde panted breathily, rolling her hips to push against Kash’s hands. “Please. Touch me like I need you to.”
Kash was never one to deny such a request, so she slipped beneath the skirt and spread her hands over Hilde’s ass, pleased to discover no barrier of undergarments.
Hilde groaned at the sensations and pushed forward, raising her body to allow Kash access to the growing wetness between her legs.
At the same moment, Kash felt a tug at her waist, and she looked down to discover that her belt was unfastened and her trousers open. It was a scenario that Kash had played out more times than she could remember, so she shouldn’t have been surprised when Hilde chose then to reveal what she really wanted.
“I hope you’ll give me your number this time,” she said with playful reproach as she lifted her top above her head to reveal a lacy, crème-colored bra. “Let me get to know you better. Maybe see whether we can work together as well as we play together.”
Usually this flagrant trading of sex for favors didn’t bother her. It had become the de rigueur course of her life for the past several years. But maybe her approaching milestone birthday or Hilde’s incredibly poor timing—making her think when she only wanted to feel—or maybe the fact that she had already been there and done that one time too many made her interest wane. She pushed Hilde off her and got to her feet. “I need another drink.”
