Zoey's Place

by E M Bannock

  Zoey laughed. But inside she contemplated what she would do if Mickey couldn’t satisfy her sexually. Her thoughts were pleasantly interrupted when she felt the gentle, warm touch of his soft lips on the back of her neck. The men had returned. Mickey sat down beside her.

  “So, what have you girls been talking about?” he asked. “We could see you laughing from across the room. Must be pretty funny.”

  Allen had also sat down and looked interested as well. The women exchanged glances of embarrassment at having been caught.

  “Oh, you know,” Fen said calmly, “just girl talk and rumors. Nothing you execs would find interesting.”

  Mickey looked at Zoey with puzzlement on his face. She looked at him and discreetly whispered, “Later.”

  The party was over by eleven o’clock. A line of limos carried couples to the airport where private jets whisked them off to their respective homes.

  On the flight home Zoey was surprised to find that Mickey already knew the stories about Ronald and Lizzy Taylor. He said he’d never told her about it because he didn’t think she was interested in his corporate world. She decided to keep the information about the other wives’ indiscretions to herself.

  Once safely back at home, Zoey and Mickey resumed their sex-fest. They went through their entire sexual scenario menu and invented a few new ones. The erotically blissful days blended together and time seemed to stand still. Zoey could imagine no better Christmas.

  Chapter 11

  Christmas was over and “Happy New Year” became the greeting of the season. Zoey was excited to get to Incline Village. At the airport, Mickey decided to wait at the bar closest to their departing gate while Zoey went to the ladies room.

  Her task completed, she walked back to the bar and saw Mickey sitting at a table in the back sipping a cocktail, most likely a Dewar’s on the rocks. For a moment she stood there and enjoyed the sight of the man. Despite his age, his features made him strikingly handsome. He carried himself with confidence that exuded refinement and style. He was perfect. She knew other women looked at him with lust in their eyes, and today was no exception. She smiled as she walked through the bar, knowing he belonged to her and her alone. Joining him at the table, she scooted close to him in the booth and kissed him on the cheek. She dug into her travel bag, pulled out a book, and set it on the table.

  She needed a book to read in-flight and at Incline Village for the time Mickey was in Vegas with his client. She had just finished Angela’s Ashes by Frank McCourt. It was a great book, but so sad it brought her to tears. It left her depressed and she vowed never to read a book like that again. She’d made a quick trip to the library the day before and decided to go with Memoirs of a Geisha, by Arthur Golden. She thought it apropos since they were going to a land where women provided sex for money. She didn’t know much about geishas really, only that they were virgins who were sold to the highest bidder. She thought it would be insightful if nothing else.

  Mickey greeted her with a short but loving kiss. A glass of wine was waiting for her. She took a sip.

  “What’re you reading?” he asked as he picked up the book and examined the cover.

  “Memoirs of a Geisha,” she replied with a smile.

  “Why?” he quizzed. “Is there something you don’t already know about sex? ‘Cause listen, babe, I’m not complaining.” He pulled her closer.

  “Good,” she said laughing. “I just thought it would be interesting to get into the head of someone who has sex without love, kind of like the hookers in Vegas. I could never figure that out. How do they handle it?”

  “Wouldn’t know. Never had sex with one,” he said casually, sipping his drink and looking straight ahead.

  “I know that. But you hire them for your clients. Don’t you ever talk to them?”

  “First of all, I don’t talk to them. I talk to their pimp or the madam. Second, it’s all very formal. I tell them what kind of hookers I want, and where and when I want them, and they send ‘em.”

  “Seems kind of cold, almost like ordering a pizza.”

  “It is kind of, I guess, when you think about it like that. It’s a business, babe.”

  The subject had piqued her curiosity. “What kinds of things do you ask for?”

  “You mean the pizza toppings?” he teased.

  “Yeah,” she laughed.

  “Well, let me see.” He accessed his mental data base, recalling the many calls made on behalf of the corporate clients. “The biggest request I get is for blondes. Some like Asian girls. I’ve got a few guys who like to have multiple women.”

  “So, it’s mostly physical appearance requests? Nothing sexual?”

  “Well, it’s none of my business what these guys do with the hookers, but there’s an understanding that the women will do whatever they’re asked to do. They’re professionals. It’s their job.”

  “I don’t know. I just can’t imagine having to pay for sex, or for that matter having sex for money.”

  He turned to her with a surprised look on his face. “Are you sure?” he asked with a sinister smile. “Because I could have sworn that two nights ago I shoved a $100 bill deep into a sexy black g-string worn by a hot chick who looked just like you in the game room of our own house. She did a killer lap dance to Limp Bizkit’s ‘Nookie’. And then she let me do all kinds of nasty things to her while she was bent over the pool table. Oh, baby, I’m getting hard just thinking about it now.” He closed his eyes and threw his head back, savoring the memory.

  She smiled, shook her head, and pushed lovingly on his arm. “It’s not the same thing, darling. It was Stripper at the Pool Hall night and it wasn’t for the money. And we love each other. I couldn’t have sex without love.” She leaned over and kissed him gently on the lips.

  Just then a scratchy voice announced to all in the terminal that United Flight 5700 to Denver was ready for boarding. Mickey sat up straight and said, “That’s us. Let’s go.” He downed the rest of his drink and picked up their bags. Together they headed for the gate.

  The flight from Detroit to Denver was long but uneventful. Flying first class made the trip bearable. They had just under an hour layover in Denver and grabbed a quick sandwich before boarding the plane to Vegas.

  A driver with a sign was waiting for them when they arrived at the Las Vegas airport. It was just after noon when the Mercedes limo dropped them off at the front of the MGM Grand Hotel. The client wouldn’t arrive for several hours yet. Mickey always came in before to ensure all the preparations had been completed.

  Today’s client was a very rich sheikh from Dubai. He would be arriving by private jet in the late afternoon or early evening. Zoey had met him once about five years before. She remembered that he was very young and very attractive. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would need to buy sex. Mickey explained that this was strictly recreation for him. A stress release, so to speak. The sheikh had a couple of wives in Dubai, but he enjoyed the fact that he could do things in Vegas anonymously, mostly sexual things, without the religious and political scrutiny he would be under if he did the same at home. He revealed that the sheikh had confided to him that it would not be honorable to ask the mothers of his children to do what he asks the hookers to do. Zoey didn’t understand that aspect. She thought it was morally confusing and dishonest, and really had no respect for the man.

  The sheikh also liked to gamble. Sometimes he won big. But it wasn’t uncommon for him to lose several million in a night without breaking a sweat. That’s why the MGM always comp’d him with a stay at one of The Mansion estates. They were a palatial collection of one- to four-bedroom villas reserved for only the “Big Whales” as they were called. In Vegas, a whale was a high roller like the sheikh, who didn’t bat an eyelash at a multi-million-dollar loss or gain.

  The Mansion rooms were spacious and lavishly furnished. Zoey always enjoyed walking through them as Mickey verified preparations. She loved the bedrooms with their giant beds, the regal furniture and fireplaces, everythin
g trimmed in gold. The bathrooms were all imported marbled with enormous tubs, jetted showers, and steam rooms. Each suite was equipped with a formal dining room, full kitchen, meeting room, and living room. There were massive archways and huge crystal chandeliers in almost every room. The architecture was meant to resemble an 18th-century Tuscan villa, and it succeeded. There was a private game room, pool, and lush patios available only to Mansion guests.

  The Mansion estates could be accessed by a gated entry driveway. This was usually how the hookers made their discreet arrivals and departures.

  “Everything is set,” Mickey announced. “I’ll call the front desk and tell him you’re ready to go to the airport. The Mercedes will be waiting for you when get to Reno. Are you sure you don’t want me to have a drive service take you to the cabin?”

  Zoey could see that he was all business now. He was good at making arrangements and getting things done. Taking charge came naturally to him. That’s why he was so successful at his job.

  “I’ll be fine driving, Mickey. It’s not that far. Besides, I want to get something to eat and go grocery shopping before I go home.”

  Mickey nodded. “Call me when you get to the house. Even if I don’t answer, leave a message. I’ll probably be late tonight. Never know when the sheikh will arrive. I want to make sure he’s happy before I head out. I’ll take a service from the airport.”

  “Honey, I don’t know why you have to babysit him,” she complained with a pout. “He’s a grown man, and you’re much too important to do this kind of stuff. Doesn’t he have people?”

  He smiled, gave her a hug, and kissed her forehead, “It’s because he’s an important man that I have to do this.” He took a step back and lifted her sad face, up with his hand under her chin so he could look into her eyes. “Don’t worry, babe. After tonight you’ve got me all to yourself for three whole days. Tomorrow is New Year’s Eve and I plan on ringing in the New Year inside you.”

  “Oh!” she squeaked as her body quivered. “Is that a promise?”

  “Cross my heart and hope to die,” he responded. He pulled her in and kissed her passionately. She reached up and ran her fingers through his hair as she pressed her body into his. She felt his growing hardness. His hands began exploring her supple body as it responded to his touch. She basked in the power and warmth of their love as he caressed her.

  Suddenly, he pulled away. “If we keep this up, I might have to fuck you right here on the sheikh’s bed.”

  “Wouldn’t want that, now, would we,” she responded. “Besides, I really should be going. I’ve got a lot of grocery shopping to do. We’ll be holed up at the cabin for three days. I plan on being naked the whole time. Don’t want to have to get dressed because we ran out of food, now, do we?”

  “You’re killin’ me, you temptress.” He regained his mental composure and put on his business face. “I’m calling for the driver.” He walked over to the phone and placed a call to the concierge.

  Zoey occupied herself by giving The Mansion suite one more walk-through. After he made the call he found her sitting outside, relaxing on the private patio. “All set, babe. There’s a driver waiting for you out front. They’re putting our luggage in the trunk as we speak.”

  She got up and gathered her things. “Call me just before you leave Reno,” she said. “I want to take a long hot bath just before you get home so my body will be warm, moist, and tingly when you get there.”

  “I love you,” he responded. He took her hand and kissed it tenderly. “I’ll walk you out.”

  Chapter 12

  When Zoey opened the door of the cabin, it was obvious it had been closed up for quite some time. The last time she was there it was summer, and the green lushness of trees and colorful flowering plants were now long gone. A thin dusting of snow lay on the leafless trees and edged the streets and yards. The air in the house was stale and still, but the feel of the house was warm and comforting. Besides the monthly caretaker visits, Zoey and Mickey were the only people who had been in the private hideaway. Their souls’ vibrations permeated every inch of the structure. She could feel the residue of the love and passionate lovemaking sessions they’d shared there through the years.

  The caretaker was alerted of their arrival and made sure the heat was turned up and the water heater turned on. Zoey walked over to the gas fireplace and pressed the ignition button off to the side. Almost instantly a roaring fire appeared, giving a warming glow to the room.

  After unpacking the car and putting the groceries away, she felt exhausted. It had been a long day. A bath sounded wonderful. She looked at the clock. It was close to eight. With the change in time zones it was actually 10 o’clock for her body. She needed to call Mickey and let him know she’d arrived safely. She picked up the phone and dialed his cell phone number. It went right to voicemail. She hoped that was a sign he was with the sheikh and would soon be on his way home and in her waiting arms. She left a message after the beep, reminded him to call before he left Reno, and hung up.

  Even if Mickey called back right now, it would be at least an hour before he was home. Sudden fatigue overtook her. She felt as if her feet weighed a hundred pounds each. She made her way into the bedroom, slipped off her shoes, and collapsed on the bed. Although she only planned to doze for a few minutes, the soothing softness of the bed cover enveloped her very being and put her into a deep slumber.

  She found herself back home in her bed in Birmingham, watching the news. A reporter was standing in front of a burning car in a desert. He was talking but she couldn’t hear what he was saying. She felt uneasy, and anxious almost to the point of panic. The phone rang next to the bed and she picked it up. All she could hear was static coming from the other end. She heard a man’s voice, but it was intermixed with the static. She asked the man to repeat his words. The only words that came through clearly was the word, “Tragedy,” lots of static, then “Nothing left”. Then the line went dead. She awoke with a start, drenched with perspiration. She looked around to get her bearings and realized she was at the cabin in Incline Village. Glancing at the clock, she saw it was half past nine. She had been sleeping for over an hour and a half.

  She nearly jumped out of her skin when the phone next to the bed rang. “Hello. Mickey, is that you?”

  It was. “Of course it is,” he answered. He detected her anxiety. “Babe, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

  Tears filled her eyes as she spoke. “Mickey, I had the most awful dream. I’m sure it was about you. Someone on the phone said there was a tragedy and nothing left.” She began to sob.

  Mickey felt helpless. As much as he tried to isolate her from the growing danger of his job, he couldn’t stop her intuitive feelings. She watched the news, and wasn’t oblivious to the changing world and his role in it. “Hon, it was just a dream. I’m fine. In fact, I’m at the Reno airport right now. I’ll be home in an hour. Didn’t you get my message?”

  She was puzzled. “What message?” She looked down at the phone and noticed that the message light was blinking. “When did you call?”

  “About an hour ago, just before I left Vegas?”

  “Wow,” she said. “I must have been more tired than I thought. I kind of passed out for the last hour and a half. I didn’t even hear the phone ring.”

  “Poor girl, you must really be exhausted. I shouldn’t have let you go to the cabin alone.”

  His words calmed her. “Mickey, I’m fine. I just need you.”

  “I know, babe. I need you, too. I’ll be home soon. You gonna be okay?”

  She felt better now. “I’ll be fine. Just hurry.”

  “As fast as I can,” he said comfortingly. “Why don’t you go take that long hot bath you told me about earlier? Take out that fancy oil we bought last summer in Denver and I’ll give you a nice massage when I get home.”

  She took a couple of deep breaths and shook the dream from her head. The sound of his voice soothed her. “That sounds like a good idea.”

  “That’s
my girl,” he said with relief. “See you soon. Love you,” he said, and hung up the phone.

  But try as she might, she couldn’t shake the dream and the horrible feeling it gave her. She wouldn’t be able to completely relax until he was home. She poured a glass of wine and decided to take that hot bath. She needed to unwind and relax.

  It felt good to submerge her body into the deep whirlpool tub. The jets of hot water seemed to ease her tension and help her loosen up. She closed her eyes and did a few deep-breathing relaxation techniques she’d learned in her meditation class. It helped. She felt her muscles loosen, and forced herself to concentrate only on pleasant thoughts. It was working and she felt much better. The butterflies had left her stomach. She glanced up at the clock and saw that forty-five minutes had passed since Mickey’s call. He would be home in less than fifteen. She got out of the tub and wrapped a silk robe around her hot body.

  She searched the medicine cabinet for the massage oil Mickey had spoken of and placed it next to their bed. She closed her eyes and imagined how wonderful it was going to feel getting that massage. His soft but powerful hands smoothing the oil onto her hungry body, exploring and searching for the sensitive places as she responded to his touch.

  She turned on the TV and found a music channel with New Age music. It was soft and soothing, the kind of music you could meditate to. It filled the house with peace. For a moment she stood there with her eyes closed and let the melodic tones wash away her apprehension and fear.

  Then she went into the bedroom to make herself ready for her husband. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders as she pulled out the pins that had held up it up while she’d bathed. She let the robe drop to the floor and looked at her reflection in the mirror. She didn’t look like a twenty-year-old anymore, but she sure didn’t look her age. She had always taken care of her skin. Her face still had a youthful glow, soft and clear. She admired her still-curvaceous 40-ish body and was glad that she had stuck to her rigorous fitness routine. She ran her hand over her flat stomach. Childbearing had taken the figures of her friends, Carol and Joanne. They worked hard to keep in shape but they both had the unmistakable belly bulge associated with pregnancy. Zoey’s belly was still taut and tight. Even at her age she could wear a bikini without embarrassment.