by Kim Baldwin
*
Isabel tried to keep her swirl of emotions in check as she watched Kash head upstairs with Hilde. Watching them dance together, seeing Kash kiss and touch the actress that way…All the while staring at me like she wanted me instead. I didn’t mistake that. The desire in Kash’s eyes had stirred something in her, made her deliciously and powerfully horny in a way that startled her in its intensity. But it had frustrated her, too.
What was she doing, anyway, to even think in those terms about some playgirl photographer at whom women constantly threw themselves? So many, she apparently can’t immediately recognize a beautiful actress she slept with a year ago.
Besides, even if she is interested, and even if I did decide to do something totally against character for once, I still have to consider Gillian.
“Guess those tabloid stories about her are true,” Gillian said, following Isabel’s eyes up to the VIP area.
“Yup. I’d say so.”
“Which is good, actually. I mean, I stand a better chance of getting a night with her, don’t you think?”
Isabel kept dancing and tried to appear nonchalant. “You’d know better than I would. One-night stands aren’t really my area of expertise.”
“Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it, Izzy. Speaking of which, if Kash is otherwise occupied, it’s time to start thinking about other opportunities for my evening’s fun.” She tilted her head toward the cute butchy brunette dancing near them. “That one’s been winking at me. Time to start winking back.” She maneuvered herself so she could flirt with the brunette while she kept dancing with Isabel. “Seen anybody here that does it for you?”
Kash does it for me, damn it. As for the rest…Isabel scanned the room, still amazed at how uniformly trendy and beautiful the clientele was. She also noted again that not a single woman was paying her any attention, though the club was full of nonstop flirting and touching. She glanced down at her clothes. No wonder. This is the least sexy outfit in the place. Not wanting to judge by appearances is one thing, but I seem to go out of my way to avoid attracting any attention to myself. Why is that? Do I do it deliberately?
“Don’t worry about me,” she whispered as the brunette Gillian was interested in joined them. “Appears you’ve got company. Be careful, huh?”
“No worries, Iz.” Gillian slipped away from her embrace to welcome the cute stranger who was bumping against her from behind. The three of them danced together long enough for Isabel to catch the woman’s name—Véronique—and for her to determine that three was definitely a crowd in this equation.
“I’ll see you back at the hotel,” Isabel told Gillian, kissing her lightly on the cheek. “Good luck, and have fun.”
Threading her way through the dancers, she headed toward the back bar, not at all anxious to interrupt what she was fairly certain was going on upstairs. But the crowd was thick and the bartenders all occupied, so she detoured to the ladies’ room. She spotted the small neon Toilettes over a doorway to the left and headed through it, only to find herself in a dark hallway populated by a dozen couples in clinches, their clothing in disarray. The heady scent of arousal hung in the air, and this far from the loudspeakers, as she walked by she could clearly hear the moans and guttural sounds of the women fucking.
Isabel had never been in a situation where women were publicly going at it like this, and the experience was more than a little exhilarating. There was certainly nothing like this back in Madison.
She was thinking what a shame it was to be all stirred up, with no suitable outlet for her sexual desires…when she ran headfirst into someone coming around the dark corner from the ladies’ room.
And headfirst it was. When they crashed together, she started to lose her balance backward and reached out, flailing for something to grab. She found the front of the woman’s crisp white shirt and ripped all the buttons off, then slid down her body until she reached the big buckle of her belt and it whipped out of her pants with a swoosh.
The stranger managed to cradle one hand behind Isabel’s head, the other around her waist when they slammed into each other. Then, together, they hit the wall behind Isabel in a heavy thud of crashing bodies.
They remained frozen a long moment as Isabel realized this wasn’t some stranger she had run into. Kash. Then she noticed how tightly they were pressed against each other, both breathing heavily. Meanwhile everywhere around them she heard, saw, and smelled women having sex.
She was hyperaware of Kash’s lean and lithe body pressed up against the entire length of hers, her right thigh barely insinuating itself between her legs. She also became aware of the fact that she had Kash’s belt in one hand and her other firmly planted on Kash’s magnificent ass. Oh, my. How did that happen?
Kash’s left arm was around her waist, possessively, while her right still gently cradled the back of her head. It hit her how close she had come to seriously injuring herself. She wanted to say thank you, but she wasn’t sure she trusted her ability to speak. All she could think about was how damn hot Kash was at this distance, and how very much she wanted to be kissed. God, she’s got the most perfectly wonderful lips.
Kash recognized that look in Isabel’s eyes. Hunger. Desire. It was coursing through her own veins, too, in a way it hadn’t with Hilde. She tightened her grip around Isabel, who gasped, and she liked that sound, very much. She slowly leaned in for a kiss, enjoying Isabel’s expression.
Her lips were only a breath away when she became dimly aware of a flash, and Isabel must have as well, because she muttered “Damn,” pushed Kash off her, and fled. Kash glanced about for the offender, but all the couples near them were still occupied. Then another flash brightened the hall, and she realized it had come from around the corner, in the direction of the restrooms. Three girls were playing around, photographing each other kissing and undressing.
Christ. She glanced down and saw her shirt open to the wind, exposing her sheer white bra. She couldn’t help but smile. Why doesn’t this surprise me? She tucked in her shirt, covering herself as best as she could and wishing she had buckled her belt after her aborted scene with Hilde, then elbowed her way out to the dance floor, surveying the crowd for Isabel. She spotted Gillian in one of the quiet alcoves, on the lap of the cute brunette she and Isabel had been dancing with. Well, they certainly have an open relationship. The two were going at it pretty heavy, Gillian apparently unconcerned whether anyone saw her without her shirt and bra. Nice tits on that one.
Isabel was nowhere on the lower floor, so Kash returned to the mezzanine.
Hilde pounced on her as soon as she spotted her. “Come on back to the couch and let’s have some fun,” she said, reaching for Kash’s shirt and stopping when she saw it was unbuttoned. “Hey, what happened to you? Partying without me?” She fingered the clasp of Kash’s trousers. “See you lost your belt, too. Aw. Couldn’t you wait for me?”
Kash wondered whether Hilde had been quite so obvious and quite so irritatingly possessive the first go-round. She couldn’t remember. “Party’s over, Hilde. Thanks.”
“Let me give you my number.” Hilde went for her purse but Kash intercepted her.
“Don’t trouble yourself. I’m sure I can find you if I want to get in touch.”
Long after Hilde had gone she stood on the mezzanine watching the crowd below. For some reason, before she returned to the hotel she wanted to make sure Isabel really had left.
Then what? she asked herself. You know what. You don’t want a threesome at all, do you? You just want her.
Chapter Six
When Isabel got back to the hotel, she ordered a cognac from room service and retired to the balcony with it to try to put the evening’s surprising turn of events into some perspective. She felt restless, all jangled nerves and emotions, since her unexpected encounter with Kash in the hallway.
Closing her eyes, she let the memory of Kash’s body pressed against hers flood her senses. It’s folly to be thinking about her like this. Where’s it going to lead me
? Still, she couldn’t help herself. Her body wanted what it wanted, and her mind refused to let go of the thrill that had ripped through her when she realized Kash was about to kiss her.
What the heck is happening to me? It was as though she had somehow switched bodies with someone, and the one she was now inhabiting had more ability to feel than the one she’d been living in all her life. She was so thoroughly and completely aroused that every part of her cried out for Kash’s touch. Why her? Why now? How can you go for thirty years thinking you have some idea of what it all means, how it all works, and suddenly find yourself realizing that so much more is possible?
She’d never felt single-minded about sex. Sure, she’d been attracted to the women she’d been with and thought she’d known what it meant to want and desire. But nothing like this. This ache for Kash, this craving, was beginning to permeate her every thought, and her body refused to let go of this low-simmering buzz of arousal.
And now what? I took off out of there like a bat out of hell with no explanation. What a missed opportunity. She probably thinks I’m some kind of…who knows what she thinks?
Realizing that she might never get to kiss Kash disturbed her, but the prospect that she would bothered her even more. And if she does want to kiss me? And more? What then?
The cognac, the spectacular night view of Paris, the warm breeze on her skin, and the memory of Kash’s musky perfume and strong arms around her eroded Isabel’s tightly woven resistance to a one-night stand. If she was here right now…Oh, if she was here right now.
The cognac lulled her into a dreamscape of possibilities, and she let her imagination run wild. When she drifted off, she tasted Kash’s mouth on hers, an escape so compelling she never heard the knocking at the door of her suite.
*
Once more Kash rapped softly at the door of the Errol Flynn, but still no response. Either Isabel had not come back to the hotel, or she had gone directly to bed. Damn. No chance to finish what they had almost started.
She knew it would take only a few minutes back at the club to find someone to help her alleviate the knot of sexual urgency that had been twisting her insides since that clinch in the hallway with Isabel. But the alternatives lacked something.
She trudged to her suite, wishing she’d been able to confirm that Isabel had made it back all right. Since when did you start caring about such things?
Her body was tight as a drum, nowhere near ready for sleep, so she was pleased to see that Claude had replenished her supply of vodka.
*
Late the next morning Gillian spotted Kash in the hotel restaurant. She was sitting alone, sipping coffee, an apparently untouched basket of fresh pastries on the table.
“Good morning,” Gillian said. “Or am I interrupting?”
“No, of course not. Please sit.” Kash removed her sunglasses and set them on the table. She had faint dark circles under her eyes and squinted.
“Hmm, apparently you had a late night, too?” Gillian inquired with a conspiratorial smile.
Kash sipped her coffee and shrugged noncommittally. “I saw you were enjoying yourself. Cute girl.”
Gillian sighed. “Very cute. Say, by the time I got back to the room this morning, Izzy had already gone. You haven’t seen her, have you?”
Kash sat up straighter. “No. I haven’t.”
“Well, she is an early riser.” Gillian signaled their waiter and ordered coffee. “She left a note saying she was out seeing the town and would catch up with me at dinner, if I didn’t have other plans.”
“Don’t you have a copy of that itinerary of hers?”
“No way. Are you kidding?” Gillian asked in mock horror. “She never lets it out of her sight. Besides, it changes every five minutes.”
“Well, I was going up to Montmartre in a while to take some pictures. Great views of the city, if you want to tag along.” Kash wasn’t sure why she made the offer. It was a totally spontaneous gesture, made mostly because she didn’t want to be alone. And she thought perhaps she might have an opportunity to get a better handle on what the deal was between Isabel and Gillian.
“Hey, that’d be great!” Gillian grinned.
*
Isabel kept ahead of her itinerary all day, even without Alain as chauffeur. But she had gotten a much earlier start than she planned and had quickly mastered the Paris Métro system.
Her day began at four a.m. when she had awakened, stiff and sore, in the chaise on the balcony. Unable to go back to sleep, she had finished her run and shower and was off to find breakfast by six, so by four thirty p.m. she had run through her list with time left for a long pause for coffee and people watching, in a café on the Boulevard Saint-Germain.
It was the first real break she had allowed herself all day, so it was also her first chance to really think about the evening before. As soon as she settled and became quiet, she was transported back to the hallway and into Kash’s arms.
Something warned her to prepare some reaction for the next time she saw Kash. Otherwise she would probably stutter and stammer or worse.
What she wondered the most was how Kash would react to her the next time they met. If she makes no reference to almost kissing me, I’ll have to take it that she wants to forget it ever happened. I mean, we do have to work together for another two and a half weeks. The prospect of Kash acting as if nothing had happened thoroughly depressed her.
Of course, the other option is entirely possible. She hadn’t mistaken the expression on Kash’s face. If it’s still there when I see her again, I’ll just melt and give in, and damn the consequences. I know I will. God, I’m almost ready to beg for it, where she’s concerned. Why the hell doesn’t it seem to matter how many women she’s had, or whether being with her will make me only one of the masses she won’t recognize a year from now? Why?
“Live like there’s no tomorrow,” Gillian kept telling her. “Let the moment take you where it will for a change. Sometimes those chance, fleeting experiences make lasting memories.” It sounded like as good a plan as any.
Maybe she should tell Gillian she was going to have some friendly competition for Kash’s attention. Why not? She won’t care. I know she won’t. She’ll understand completely. Maybe she can even explain to me what’s going on—how you can be so damn attracted to someone that you can’t think of anything else but how much you want to be naked with them.
Even as she thought it, though, she suspected there was a big difference in the way she and Gillian wanted Kash. Gillian would be happy with an evening, but she knew she wanted more. Much, much more. One night with Kash would never be enough. She glanced at her watch. Time to face the music. Excitement ran through her. Please let Kash look at me like that again.
The nearest metro station was only down the block, so she was on a train headed for the hotel within five minutes. She made it only halfway there, however, before a power outage shut down one-third of the massive subway system, including the line she was on.
Three hours later she finally arrived at the hotel—grumpy, sweaty, and starving. Gillian had left a note in their suite, which read:
Where are you?
Having such a great day you lost track of the time, I hope. We waited forty minutes, then decided to head to dinner because we’d made reservations.
We? she wondered. We who?
If you find this before eight, dress up and come find us at…
The note gave the name and address of a restaurant in Pigalle, but Isabel quickly skimmed that part since it was already eight fifteen.
If you get back after that, we’ll be at Vive la Vie. Kash will tell the doorman to expect you.
Well, that explained the we. Her heart sank. So Kash and Gillian had dinner together. Gillian was getting her one-on-one chance to see if Kash was interested in something more.
She had to go to the club. Gillian would probably worry if she didn’t hear from her soon. But she wasn’t excited about seeing the two of them together. I want her for myself, Gill.
So much so that any notion I had about helping you get her has evaporated. I sure hope you understand. After all, I’m only doing what you advised. I’m letting my body take me where it wants to. And it sure as heck is making it all too clear it wants her.
After a shower and plate of Boeuf Bourguignon from room service, she got ready to return to the club. I walked through half of Paris today. Why didn’t I come back with something to wear? The clothes she’d brought with her were nothing like what she’d seen women wearing at Vive la Vie. She’d packed only a few comfortable things because she’d been told she’d get her new wardrobe the first week of her trip.
Gillian was always offering to loan her things to wear, and they swapped clothes so routinely that she didn’t hesitate to go through Gillian’s closet when her own failed to produce a suitable garment. She selected a short skirt that under normal circumstances might have made her a bit self-conscious.
But she was in the mood not to be invisible tonight.
In the end, she wore her own blouse, a plain white cotton number, but tied in front to show off a bit of stomach. Added a pair of heels—also Gillian’s and a tad large—and a bit of makeup.
Her hair took another twenty minutes of fussing over to get it the way she thought would fit in with what she’d seen.
The person who stared back at her in the mirror was almost unrecognizable. She was sexy and mischievous and ready for fun. And totally in keeping with this new hypersensitized body she was inhabiting. Tonight I won’t be Izzy at all. Tonight I’m Isa. And Isa is a wild child, it appears. Think I’ve got it in me?
*
By the time she sat down to dinner with Gillian, Kash knew quite a lot about both her and Isabel. As they had explored the streets of Montmartre, she had got Gillian talking. Likes and dislikes, schools attended, jobs, and interests. And along the way, Gillian volunteered a lot of information about Isabel. In fact, she talked about nearly everything except the true nature of their relationship.
