by Shawn Keys
Fishing along the windowsill beside her, Hélène plucked up the remote and turned the music down. Before the others could object to that, she called out, “Hey, Matteo! What’s the good word?”
“Ahhh… right, ummm…” The staggering sexuality of the scene was close to flooring him. True, he had seen them in swimming suits that frankly hid far less than the towels did. But towels had an implicit ability to fall off easily… or to be tugged off if one was so inclined. Not to mention that each of them had legs crafted specifically to make judges and spectators pay attention and admire them while they were kicking above the pool’s surface. Everything they were doing was drawing uncomfortably specific attention to their elegant limbs. He wanted nothing more than to caress his hands along them, to feel the silken texture following this spa-style treatment to which they were treating themselves.
He struggled past that, smacking himself mentally for gawking. None of them seemed all that bothered. Laura’s grin changed to playful, continuing to slowly stroke up and down Melodie’s legs. Melodie canted herself toward Matteo, waiting for what he was going to say, looking exceedingly innocent… and yet, continuing to lounge low in her chair and purr faintly at the treatment she was receiving.
Swallowing for a second time to clear his throat, Matteo managed to speak actual words, “Had to… well, wanted to pass on… the ummm… you know, the reservations for dinner? Flora… she found a place. Not so far away. Hope everyone’s in the mood for Thai food?”
“Love Thai food. Haven’t had it that often and only at that one place in the market back home.” Daphne didn’t pause the stroke of her razor, not glancing at him as she spoke.
Matteo felt his heart-beat pick up from her saying the word ‘love’. His eyes traced the way her fingertip caressed along Hélène’s skin in the wake of the razor, confirming that the blade had done its job well.
Thai food. Focus on the food. He ran over the various restaurants on the island and tried to think of the one she might be talking about. Considering there were about a half-dozen on the whole island that served such food, he thought he located in his memory the one she meant. He nodded. “Oh, this will be much better than that…”
His words trailed off as Hélène ran her own hand along her long leg, admiring Daphne’s work with a purr of pleasure. His attempt at diverting and normalizing the conversation failed. That made all four of the women in front of him laugh and grin.
Rather than grant him any mercy, Hélène drew even more attention to the sensual scene he was witnessing. He answered his unspoken question with a knowing smile. “It’s a bit of a tradition.”
“Oh?” Matteo prided himself on getting that much out.
She nodded, sighing in satisfaction as Daphne’s touch flowed briefly along her thigh far higher than propriety would normally allow. “Not shaving for over a week before the competition is part of the whole thing.”
“Really?” he asked, getting two syllables out this time. The extra control came from honest curiosity. He hadn’t known that. “What for?”
Laura was the one who answered, “Helps you feel the flow of the water over your skin. Lets you know precisely where you are. It’s a fine balance. The sport is all about being noticed, so you don’t want to go full gorilla by letting the hair be all that visible. Tiny follicles are all you need. Like… well, like a bird can feel the wind with its feathers, you know?”
He did, so he nodded.
Melodie let out a deeply relaxed sigh. “But it sure is nice to get back to smooth.”
Matteo tried to clear his throat again and take hold of himself. Stop acting like a drunk teenager! “Is the ‘ritual’ almost done?”
“Hoping to stay and watch the rest?” Hélène teased.
He was far too steady of heart and experienced to blush at that. At least, that’s what he told himself. He would go to his grave believing that he didn’t look utterly embarrassed as she called him on how much he wanted to do more than simply watch. He tried to deflect back to the real reason he was there: the reservations. “Ahh, well, what I meant to point out was that the restaurant expects us there in about 45 minutes, and it’s around a twenty-minute drive. Takes forever to get anywhere in this city. The traffic can be a nightmare.”
A little of their teasing attitude melted away. Daphne finished sweeping away the last of the cream on Hélène’s legs. She turned toward him before continuing any further care, “We can be ready. Only one more step.” She settled a warm hand on Hélène’s leg, implying the lotion application that would replicate what Laura and Melodie had already done for each other.
That mental image would stay with him for a long time. It loomed large in his mind, forcing him to struggle past it. “Great. So… twenty minutes? Meet in the lobby?”
Laura gave one last, gentle stroke along Melodie’s leg, then eased it out of her lap. She rose and padded over the tiles toward him, standing a little to his left. Her being the shortest accentuated the height difference between them. “Twenty minutes, huh? Such a small time. I mean, for instance… twenty minutes would hardly be enough time to thank you properly for everything you’ve done.”
Her wicked smile implied all sorts of things he had no business thinking about. Trying to brush off the temptation, he replied, “No need.”
Melodie recovered from her relaxing massage. She stood from the chair and followed Laura, coming to rest a little to his right. “Yes, there is. You got us here. You stopped us from making fools of ourselves on television.”
“All I did was help you feel comfortable in an awkward spot. It’s the least I could do.”
“No,” Daphne said, rising from her spot by the tub. She walked into the main bathroom. “It wasn’t.”
Hélène was right behind her. She leaned against her friend, showing her affection. “We mean a lot to each other. We were totally committed to this. But our efforts weren’t enough. What you did… it’s all becoming real.”
Laura nodded. “So, you’re going to have to accept the fact that we’re going to keep thanking you.” She put a hand on his arm, went onto the tips of her toes and stretched up to peck him on the cheek. Then she grinned and whispered, “And we’re going to use more than twenty minutes to do it. Certainly not these twenty minutes.”
He nodded, hearing her giving him the chance to escape gracefully. “Your coach is already down there getting the concierge to bring the mini-bus around.”
“Then you better get outta here before we reconsider, decide to thank you now and make us all late,” Laura said, her mischievous smile not fading one bit.
Matteo’s focus skimmed from one of them to the next. To Melody with her eyes still hazy from the pleasure of her massage. To Daphne and Hélène softly cradling each other, making him wish he was between them. Then back to Laura, who was clinging to his arm, the towel around her breasts pushing a little too hard against him to be perfectly innocent.
“Yeah, I think I should,” Matteo agreed quickly. He eased away from Laura’s tender grasp and slipped out through the door, pulling it closed behind him. He planted a hand against the nearest wall, needing the physical point of reference right about then. His jeans seemed like an intensely bad idea, right now. He almost wished the seams would burst to relieve the primal pressure surging through him. Then again, the tight denim was probably the only reason his swollen member hadn’t caused him even more embarrassment.
Groaning with each step, he headed for his room. Twenty minutes… time for a cold shower? He decided it would have to be. Though he didn’t know if there was enough frigid water in the whole damned world to wash away the memory of what he’d just seen. It wasn’t simply the sensual spa the women were enjoying or the teasing hints they had given. It was the soft yet inviting look in their eyes. All four of them practically inviting him to let his inner animal off its chain, tear those towels off them and…
Yeah, that’s a good idea. Dwell on it even more! He swore his jeans creaked audibly as his bulge pressed even more painf
ully outward.
Twenty minutes. Even under ice water, that short of a shower was not going to be enough.
Chapter 12
Irène crushed into Matteo’s bearish hug, burying her face in his chest. “Thank you so much for coming.”
Matteo didn’t say anything in return, simply laid his cheek onto the top of her head and let her work out her emotions.
Evelyn leaned in and whispered into Daniel’s ear. “I’ll have the car come around, if you want to wait for her.”
Daniel nodded. “I’m sure Cadence would appreciate that as well.”
“Cadence would indeed,” Cadence said, her humor real though muted given the solemn day. She came to a thankful rest, propping herself on her crutches. It had been less than three days since her injury, and she was still avoiding putting any weight on it except when under the watchful eye of the physiotherapist Evelyn had arranged for her upon her return. Not having to make her way out to the parking lot was a gift Cadence wasn’t about to turn down.
“I’ll go with you, Evelyn,” MK said. Her sympathies to Irène had been delivered. The rest of the people present were even more strangers to her than to Daniel and Cadence. MK was far more comfortable with those she knew, slow to befriend anyone even in a happy social setting.
Evelyn took the mild risk of squeezing both Daniel’s and Cadence’s hands fondly, then led the way into the church’s expansive parking area. Portesara had inherited their extremely catholic-centric religious history from France. More than half of the population were regular church attendees and the number crept closer to two-thirds if you included more casual believers.
Lingering near each other, Daniel and Cadence waited while Irène and Matteo finished their embrace. As they drew apart, Irène paused to shake hands with a couple others walking past, trading a few more well-wishes before sending them off.
When the small parade had passed, Matteo asked, “Everything else is all arranged?”
Irène nodded. “Evelyn was a lot of help. From here-on-in, it’s all taken care of, really. The church has a crypt in its cellar for their ashes. They will be at peace on holy ground. Seems like the best place for them.”
Daniel moved a little closer. “We’re going to raise a glass to their memory, Irène. Will you come with us? We’d understand if you have family you’d rather be with.” He was saying it to be polite. After what Evelyn had told him, he knew a lot more about Irène’s family than he ever expected to acquire. And it didn’t surprise him that she was all but divorced from them.
“Thanks, Daniel. That… that would be nice.” She glanced up at Matteo. “You’ll come, too?”
“For a while. Long enough to say a few words, for sure.”
“Work to do?” Daniel asked.
“Need to sort out what I’m going to say to the commissioner tomorrow. I have a meeting right after breakfast.”
Cadence roused a little enthusiasm, “I heard that team you were helping did really well!”
“Better than anyone expected,” Matteo agreed. “Even themselves. The real coup was sitting in fourth after the technical. Their scores for the artistic portion were icing on the cake. Falling to sixth doesn’t do them justice. They were even with three very good teams. They have a strong case.”
“Tell me you have a tape of them on This Night Tonight,” Cadence pleaded softly.
“They’re mailing me one,” Matteo said. “It doesn’t air down here, I know. I wish I had it already to show to the commission.”
“We’ll talk about that at the restaurant,” Daniel suggested. “Evelyn gets a pretty wide spread of channels and most of them can be found on the PVR. Might be able to give you a copy to show them.”
Matteo’s smile was polite, though still shadowed with the looming sadness that hovered over the church. “I’d be in your debt.”
“Don’t mention it. It’s a small thing. Glad to do a little good.” Daniel focused on Irène. “Want to ride with us or Matteo?”
Irène drifted a little closer to Matteo. “If he has to head off soon, I’ll go with him. We can catch up and say… well, whatever needs to be said. We’ll meet you there.”
By then, Evelyn’s limousine was pulling up in front. Daniel opened the door to the back, holding it for Cadence to shuffle awkwardly inside. MK did what she could to help from the other seat, taking the crutches for her and laying them down the middle.
Trading one last supportive look with Irène and Matteo, he followed his lover into the car.
* * *
Cadence swirled the mixture in her glass with a touch of displeasure. “Another reason to get off painkillers as fast as possible.”
“You like strawberries,” MK pointed out.
“And I like strawberry juice mixed with lime soda. It makes a nice twister drink. Sour and sweet in one shot.” Cadence took a long sip through her straw, then managed to scowl despite the pleasant taste. “But if you haven’t noticed, we’re in a bar. Even though Evelyn will be swinging by to take us home, we don’t need a designated driver!”
“Not sure I would trust that bum leg of yours even when sober. No way you’re climbing behind the wheel.” MK took a pull on the Fell’s Brew she had picked up. She commented with approval, “The guy looking after your father’s business is doing a decent job. I’d say the mix has even gotten a little better.”
“Maybe more consistent,” Cadence rolled her eyes. “That’s what happens when you don’t drink half of every batch you make. You don’t have to buy it, you know.”
“What? I actually like it.” MK shrugged. “Better than a lot of other microbreweries, and a crap-load better than your typical, watered-down, no-personality mainstream stuff.” She smirked. “Besides, don’t you make 49¢ on the dollar off it? Figure it can be my small way of paying you back for all the times you picked up the tab.”
“Hey, I know it’s temporary. Coming in neck and neck against Zekia Dixon is going to earn you at least a little more notice. Azélie will see to that.”
“Wouldn’t exactly call it ‘neck and neck’. There was a whole other person between me and her, remember?” MK seethed a little at the memory she wasn’t willing to let go.
“Sure, sure. You won’t let me forget. So, how could I?” Cadence glanced at the beer in MK’s hands. “If it would let me have one, I’d drink nothing else but that stuff for the rest of the night.” She moped a little.
“Well, in that case…” MK drained the last of hers and stood up from her seat. “I’m going for two more. I’ll drink one for ya! Want another twister while I’m at it?”
“Bite me.”
“Only if you ask really nicely.” With a tiny, wicked laugh, MK set off across the bar.
At a nearby booth, Irène and Daniel were listening to their antics with fond smiles, hers born from the love she had for her BFFs, while Daniel’s was a little more complicated. Whenever he allowed his attraction toward Cadence to rise to the surface, it was difficult not to notice MK’s appeal. As a runner, her thighs and calves were a touch more powerful. It was impossible to miss how her strong, firm buttocks played under her loose-fitting skirt, causing it to bob delightfully as she walked toward the bar. There was no denying that she was a beautiful woman in her own unique way.
To be honest, he would have said the same of Irène. The younger woman’s loveliness stemmed from her boundless energy and the all-around versatility and flexibility in her frame. It was precisely what made her an excellent candidate for the demanding heptathlon, but it also made her incredibly appealing, especially to Daniel who had always appreciated athleticism in the women he admired.
But tonight, the side of him that appreciated Irène’s cute, spritely appeal was quiet. It wasn’t simply because of the loss she was dealing with. Daniel had other business he needed to cover with her. The rest of the night, he had been her friend. He’d go back to that soon enough. But for the next few minutes, he would force himself into the mindset of being her coach.
Irène was nursing a ma
rgherita, her eyes traveling back and forth between her two friends. “Wish I could have been there. Are they going to be alright?” She knew both of her friends had their own difficulties to overcome.
Daniel had to appreciate how giving a person she was. It was enough that she had insisted the other women go for their chance at glory. Now, here she was actually giving a shit about their future challenges while she was inundated with her own pressures. Daniel didn’t think anyone in the world would blame Irène if she locked herself into her own grief right about then. Is it even normal that she’s not? He decided then and there that he was going to have to research grief. Maybe even pay a visit to a doctor. Get some advice about watching for warning signs.
He wasn’t totally worried about her. Using emotions… even grief… to power you in sport was an old habit for Daniel. Maybe Irène intended to do the same. To use the loss of her grandparents as her reason to rocket toward the stars. If so… he’d help her do it and celebrate while she did. But there was the potential for a crash, and he’d have to be watching for that, too.
For now, he answered her on the level, “Yeah, they’ll be alright. MK will get her third chance to face off with Dior at the FLGs. I doubt the commission will drop Dior. She’s too good, and I’m assuming her coach has already dropped a formal protest, objecting to the judge waving that flag. That’s all part of the hurdling sport, these days.”
“Which means MK is going to be obsessed with beating her,” Irène summarized.
“Yeah. Well, it’s good that she has friends like you and Cadence. To keep her balanced.”
Irène issued a dark laugh. “Umm, hold on. You’ve set me on a short-notice path to totally re-make myself as an athlete while Cadence is hellbent on pushing her physiotherapy. Not exactly the best examples in moderation, are we?”
