Focus of Desire

by Kim Baldwin

  Slowly she regained herself and realized that the body she was clinging to was only stiffly tolerating her embrace. Kash’s eyes revealed nothing. As before, once the deed was done, Kash became cold and distant, as though unaffected by what had just happened.

  “You…uh…you’d better…” As Kash extricated herself from Isabel’s arms, she indicated, with a tilt of her head, her open blouse, before turning back toward where they had come from.

  Glancing down, Isabel saw her exposed breasts, nipples still rosy and prominent. Her pants were open, too, her panties pushed down far enough to allow a glimpse of honey blond hair.

  By the time she had redressed, Kash had already taken two steps toward the main thoroughfare.

  What did you expect? she asked herself as she followed Kash back into the horde of people. Whatever she had expected, it was certainly not this. Even more than the first time with Kash, this experience had left her feeling completely content yet profoundly unsatisfied.

  During the short walk back to the hotel, Isabel prayed that Kash would invite her to her suite. Despite what Kash had told her about herself, she ached to make Kash feel what she had felt. But with each passing step, she grew more convinced that their encounter in the alley was their last. Kash was more distant now than ever—not speaking, not paying much attention to her at all.

  You got exactly what you asked for, she told herself. The way she made you feel, you have nothing to complain about. But instead of feeling sated, she realized all the more that she had needs long hidden and still unfulfilled that she never even knew existed.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Though Kash masturbated vigorously, then drank a considerable amount of vodka, she still craved Isabel and was guilty about how things had transpired. Both developments unsettled her. She had never felt guilty in her dealings with women and never fucked someone but still been attracted to them.

  And most alarming of all—she had begun to want Isabel to touch her.

  She could still feel Isabel’s hand on her arm and hear her sweet, wistful tone. And damn it, with Isabel walking beside her, if she hadn’t begun to experience Rome’s romanticism.

  That’s why they had ended up quick and dirty in an alley, and not back at her suite.

  Isabel had made her wish for things she believed herself incapable of, imagine possibilities she knew could never be. She felt pulled in a direction totally against her nature.

  And the more sweet and romantic Isabel had become, the worse Kash’s frustration had grown, until finally she had reacted in the only way she knew. She couldn’t listen to Isabel anymore, because she was letting herself get carried away. And so she had taken her, yet again, in the way that she always took women, to demonstrate to herself that nothing had really changed and to prove to Isabel that no woman had a right to shake up her world and everything in it.

  A part of her knew, even as she fucked Isabel again, that any and every experience with Isabel was different, but she couldn’t stop herself. She was desperate to set her world back on its axis, and Isabel’s excitement had swept her away.

  In retrospect, however, she was sorry for the way she had acted. Isabel deserved more and better. I should have made it nice for her, like I planned. Tender. Private. She deserved that. Kash felt ashamed she could not control herself, but Isabel made her feel, and feel too much.

  She knew Isabel would regret what had happened. So she drank, and paced, and drank some more, and wondered how in the world she could manage another two weeks with Isabel without going mad. It was two in the morning when she settled onto her balcony with the last of the vodka, hoping that she could sleep or find something to distract her from thinking about touching Isabel.

  Though the hotel’s famed swimming pool was dark and long closed to guests, pool lights made it a tranquil oasis of blue, so she noticed immediately that a lone swimmer had slipped past the gate and was doing laps.

  It was Isabel. Oh, fuck. Some days, you shouldn’t get out of bed.

  *

  Lap upon lap upon lap, and still she couldn’t get Kash out of her mind. Once they returned to the hotel, Isabel had tried to sleep, but the memory of how Kash had made her feel was still too fresh. No matter how much she wanted to put the experience in its proper place—a one-night stand, that’s all. I knew that going in—her heart and mind and body wanted more.

  She scarcely recognized herself. Talk about makeover. What an understatement. She was changing far more than her hair, makeup, and wardrobe. She would never have believed she would even wish for a solitary sexual interlude with someone, let alone remember two quick and casual assignations—one of them in public, no less—with such relish and longing.

  How is it possible at nearly thirty to discover facets of myself that I never knew existed? This sudden voracious appetite for the kind of passion that Kash had unleashed in her felt almost primal.

  Where did all this come from? How have I gone so long thinking I was one way, believing I was comfortable in my own skin, only to find I’ve been—what? Deluding myself? That’s what it felt like. She’d thought she was relatively happy with her life and the way she lived it, had never noticed that her sexual activity with women was both scarce and too predictable.

  I’ve always viewed sex outside of a relationship as completely undesirable and thought that those who participate in it should be chastised and criticized. I believed that if I got to know someone before I slept with them I would somehow be more mature or noble. She wondered why she thought this way. Her parents and rather conservative upbringing probably had a lot to do with it, as did the fact that none of her lovers had really challenged or encouraged her to be any other way.

  And when women I might be interested in looked past me to someone prettier, that philosophy made being rejected a lot easier. How many times had she tried to console herself when that happened by telling herself, Well, she’s not the type of woman I’d want, anyway, if she’s ready to jump into bed with someone based entirely on their appearance.

  Rather hypocritical of me, considering how totally I’ve embraced Isa and am doing everything I can to use the right makeup and clothes to get Kash’s attention.

  Oh, she could see the potential problems of adopting a totally no-strings-attached, casual-sex-only lifestyle. Avoiding emotional attachments entirely, as Kash apparently did, held no appeal for her. She still needed to connect in some way with someone she was interested in. But she’d been wrong not to let sex be a spontaneous bit of fun and not to allow herself to know how exciting it could be, and how liberating, to put on a provocative dress and allow it to work some magic. Naughty can be awfully nice, that’s for sure.

  Even as she wondered why no other woman had ever brought out this passionate side of her, she wondered what she would do with this new, sexually charged persona once she and Kash resumed their normal lives. She knew it was not so much a matter of the where, and when, and how that had given birth to Isa as the who involved. You’re going to have to let her go. How will you cope when it happens? Will Isa fade back into the woodwork, never to be seen again? Can she?

  She didn’t want to relinquish this new sexy side, but she knew that physical excitement alone couldn’t bring her happiness. Kash is proof of that. She has all the sex she wants, it appears, but has that made her happy?

  The fact that Kash had triggered these changes puzzled her as much as the existence of this hidden side of her. Why her? Kash certainly wasn’t the type of woman she was usually drawn to. In fact, the polar opposite. She could be rude, and abrupt, and way too full of herself. A woman who obviously ran from relationships—hell, not only relationships, but from a polite evening out together as a precursor to sex. Just slam, bam, thank you, ma’am, and here I am thinking she’s something special?

  Kash had said hardly two words to her on the way back to the hotel. And once there, she had muttered only a polite good night as they got on the elevator, to make sure Isabel knew their evening was over.

  Damn infuriatin
g woman. Isabel swam another lap, automatically shifting from breaststroke to backstroke. One minute we’re walking arm in arm along the Tiber, heading to a nice dinner, and the next she’s being a jerk.

  But she couldn’t stay angry with her. Not with the memory of how Kash had turned her on and made her feel so fresh in body and mind. Amazing. Like I suddenly walked out of a black-and-white photo into blazing Technicolor. And though the issue of sex was now center stage with Kash, she knew a lot more was going on between them, at least for her. She’d begun to develop feelings for Kash, real feelings, though apparently she had nowhere to go with them. She certainly didn’t dare admit them to Kash.

  No, if I’m to have any chance of spending any more quality time with her, I have to keep things light and casual.

  Countless laps had failed to calm the singing in her blood, so she emerged from the pool and padded over to the sunken hot tub, slipping into the shadowed recesses of the heated water with a groan. She floated, head back against the polished stone side, but she couldn’t relax. The memory of Kash’s hand was still too vivid. Glancing around and listening intently, she assured herself no one else was about.

  Her body was too stirred up and the pulsating jets of the hot tub were too inviting. She faced the nearest one and braced her hands on the rim of the tub. Spreading her legs, she arched her back and leaned forward so the force of the water was directed at her clit. Ahhhh.

  *

  Oh, Christ. She’s not…Kash strained through blurry eyes to see the figure in the shadowy depths of the hot tub. Certain enough of what she was seeing to risk walking on wobbly legs, she stumbled into the suite to finally relinquish her death grip on her glass of vodka and retrieve her camera and longest telephoto lens.

  The lens brought Isabel into vivid clarity as she stripped off her suit. Damn, that’s hot. Her hands were shaking so from the alcohol and her rapidly beating heart that the body she was watching slipped out of view briefly as Isabel threw her head back in ecstasy. Kash cursed under her breath to miss even a millisecond of the show.

  Straining to regain the image in her viewfinder, she saw the naked expanse of Isabel’s chest reappear, breasts uplifted, as she positioned her body to maximize the effect of the jets. Kash couldn’t risk a flash and so was grateful for enough ambient light from the pool for her camera to capture the image. Click. Click.

  Isabel’s mouth was open, and her body was rocking hard now against the sides of the tub. Click. Click. Kash ached to hear the sounds she was making as she approached orgasm. Fuck, yes. What she would have given for a bit more light. Click.

  With her left hand still gripping her long lens, she lost interest in taking pictures with her right. Her fingertips were still a bit cool from the ice when she slipped them into her trousers, but her fuzzy brain allowed the shock more readily than if she’d been sober.

  Take your time, Isabel, she urged silently, as she stroked herself. Take your time.

  *

  When they all converged on the airport the next day for their flight to Cairo, Kash wanted to indulge her fascination with Isabel and watch her unabashedly, but she couldn’t bring herself to. She felt guilty about how she’d surreptitiously watched her in the tub and used the experience to get herself off. She missed the detachment her camera afforded her.

  In addition, Isabel wasn’t acting as though she regretted what had happened, as she had expected. No, Isabel was her usual perky, happy self. All smiles, greeting Kash with genuine warmth and discreetly not referencing their liaison or expressing any expectations. Classy. Yet her direct eye contact and warm tone made it clear that she had very much enjoyed what had transpired in the alley.

  Kash’s heart fluttered, but she kept her expression neutral and tried not to think about the invitation in those deep blue eyes and of all the things she’d imagined doing with Isabel while she watched her climax in the hot tub. Isabel was making her want things out of her reach, like romance, and love, and trust, and really connecting with someone.

  Their flight didn’t board for forty minutes, so relatively few people had gathered at the gate. She sat across and down a bit from Isabel, near enough to be polite and get a good view of her, but far enough away not to have to make conversation. They were near a large window and sunlight was streaming in, so she put on her sunglasses, grateful for the opportunity to conceal where her attention lay.

  It’s your birthday coming up, that’s all. You’re going through some midlife thing, the drama queen worrying she’s going to end up alone. Though that concern was somewhat valid, it really wasn’t why she couldn’t stop obsessing about Isabel. There’s something about her. She makes me want to give her more…treat her differently…even be a better person.

  The way Isabel routinely opened doors for strangers or offered an assisting elbow to the frail or unsteady impressed Kash. The friendly, interested tone she used in her interactions with ticket vendors, salespeople, wait staff, and the like also appealed to her. Most of the populace looked right through such people, barely acknowledging their presence. But Isabel engaged almost everyone she met, even briefly, in a way that always left them smiling.

  You’re real, that’s what you are. A genuinely sweet and selfless individual. And a wickedly sexy one. That’s a potent combination. And why do you have to be so luscious in whatever you wear? Isabel had on an off-white linen suit from her new wardrobe, with a beige V-necked shell beneath. She was chic, and sexy, and extremely hard to resist.

  Am I capable of monogamy? No woman had made her wonder such things. No. Stop thinking crazy. You have nothing to offer a woman like Isabel, so don’t encourage any further involvement. You’ll only hurt her.

  *

  “Here’s your cappuccino.” Gillian’s voice brought Isabel out of her musings. She wanted so much to watch Kash, but those sunglasses made it impossible to tell when she was looking her way, and she didn’t want to be caught rudely staring. She took the paper cup, and Gillian sank into the empty seat beside her.

  “Thanks. Where’s your friend?” Isabel had been more than a little surprised that she hadn’t seen or heard from Gillian until she’d shown up at the airport, still with Ambra, the sizzling Italian woman she had danced away with at the club three nights earlier.

  “Making some phone calls.” Gillian crossed her legs.

  “So she’s coming to Cairo?” Gillian sometimes carried a one-night stand into a few days, or a week, but rarely continued one into another continent. “This one something special?”

  Gillian shrugged, a new dreamy, faraway quality in her eyes.

  “Well, not that anything’s going to come of it,” Gillian admitted. “But she’s something else, that’s for sure. The most charming woman I have ever met. Bar none. She is so damn irresistible.” Gillian was clearly smitten. “Formal manners, and all attentive and romantic. And so hot in bed.”

  “And she must be taken with you, too, to come with us.”

  Gillian grinned. “Well, we have been pretty much inseparable since we met. But enough about me. So when did you two finally get together?”

  Isabel blushed, remembering the night before. She had to smile.

  “Oho! I see it was great, too.” Gillian punched her playfully on the thigh. “But…if so, then why is she sitting over there?”

  “It’s not been…what I expected,” Isabel confided in a low voice. “Fantastic,” she hastened to add. “I mean…unbelievably exciting. I only wish it could be…more.”

  Gillian gave her a resigned smile. “Well, Izzy, these kinds of things…it’s all about having some fun and not dreaming for anything beyond what it is, whatever it is. Or was.”

  “I know that,” Isabel said. “But…don’t you ever want more? Haven’t you ever met someone that you don’t want to let go of?”

  “Sure I have,” Gillian admitted. “A few times, I’ve felt a spark of something besides ‘wanna fuck?’ So when that happens, if you’re lucky, maybe you both decide you want to see each other again.” She glanced
down the length of the terminal, but her new girlfriend wasn’t in sight. “I’m sure going to be sorry to say good-bye to Ambra.” A long sigh followed, then she gave Isabel a frown of commiseration. “But I knew going into it with her, like you did with Kash, that this was only going to be an affair. I mean, look at how they live…and then at us. We want different things. We lead completely different lives.”

  Can’t argue with that. She nodded her agreement.

  “You have to be content with having whatever it is you have together,” Gillian concluded. “As long as it lasts. Maybe it’s not all you want. Maybe not by a long shot.” She stared off down the terminal again, seeking Ambra. “But sometimes it’s still truly wonderful and memorable. Maybe only a brief instant in time, but if it lives often enough in your head because of how incredible it made you feel…if it becomes one of your most frequent and fond memories…then it’s certainly worth the bittersweet disappointment that it couldn’t be more. No?”

  “I’ve always worried about you a little,” Isabel said, taking Gillian’s hand. “You’re always so flippant about your nights out and kind of laugh them off anytime I suggest you might want to think about actually dating someone. I thought you might be averse to having a real relationship. But I see now you’re certainly open to it if it happens.”

  She glanced over at Kash. From the tilt of her head, she appeared to be watching the agent behind the counter, who was busy checking in passengers; but with those dark glasses on, Kash could be staring right at her. I wish you’d take those things off. “And I have to admit,” she said, returning her attention to Gillian, “I’m glad you talked me into loosening up and being open to new things. My time with Kash, however brief, will certainly become a fond and frequent memory, that’s for sure.” Isabel could feel her skin get hot again as her mind flashed back to the alley.

  “I’m glad you had a good time. And hey, if it’s any consolation, I think she really likes you. She couldn’t take her eyes off you at the club while we were dancing. And other times, too. I mean, she really watches you.” At Isabel’s surprised gasp she added, “And by the way, I essentially threw myself at her and she turned me down, basically saying sex was a bad idea, considering the circumstances.”