“They were. I thought you would be famished.”
“That was all I needed to get my strength back,” he said, dropping the towel to the floor to show that indeed the food and the nap had brought on a complete recovery.
Ariane laughed. “Wow, you really like French pastries!”
He pulled her up from the bed. “Only when they’re delivered by my favorite French chef.” He removed the pins from her hair to let it cascade around her face and unfastened the buttons of her shirt and the top button of her pants.
While he peeled away her shirt and bra, she stepped closer to him and ran the back of her hand along his freshly shaved jaw and then traced the contour of his lips with a finger.
“I have a surprise for you,” she said then tilted her head sideways and leaned forward to brush his lips with hers.
“Oh, good, I love surprises. What is it?” He unzipped her pants.
“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise, now would it?”
“I guess not,” he said, looking for a clue in her eyes while helping her shimmy out of her pants and underwear. “Are you going to give me a clue?”
“Nope, but you’ll see it soon enough.”
“Patience has never been my forte.” He bent over to take a nipple in his mouth. He gently bit it while pinching the other with his fingers. “I have the means to make you talk, you know.”
He watched her pupils dilate as his hands slid down her back to her butt.
“Very convincing methods,” she whispered. “So I’ll give you hint. You’re getting closer.”
He took a step back and looked down between her legs. His breath got shorter, and he looked back in her eyes. “I love my surprise! Will you always be so quick to grant me my wishes?”
“I’m not sure. Hot wax there hurts like hell, and that’s an understatement. Before I grant you another wish I’m going to need a lot of convincing that this one was worth my while.”
“Oh, don’t worry, my pet. That I will do. I assure you the pain…”
“The major pain,” she said, interrupting him.
He smiled a very predatory smile and started again. “Okay, I can assure you that the major pain you suffered comes with serious rewards. I will demonstrate.”
Peter turned around to close the bedroom door and then the window. He made her sit on the edge of the bed and then asked, “If you scream, will the neighbors come running?”
“Yes. But I’m not vocal that way. I never scream.”
“Fine. But, just in case, please humor me and keep a pillow handy so you can scream into it.”
“Why not?” She shrugged her shoulders but grabbed a pillow.
Peter pushed her back onto the bed, and her hair spread around her like a sunburst. Her body was partly lit by the ray of sunlight seeping through the opening in the curtains. She had no idea what she was in for.
Peter kneeled at the foot of the bed. He started by setting her in the position he wanted. He put a hand on each of her knees, spread her legs apart, and placed each foot on the bed frame so she would have some support.
He caressed her thighs, quickly getting closer to the apex of her legs, and then touched the very sensitive bare skin. She purred like a kitten when one of his fingers slid down her nether lips. He chuckled. The kitten would soon be turning into a panther. He was going to make her roar.
Peter brought his mouth down on her and slowly licked her fold open while inserting one finger into her soaked opening. He loved how quickly she reacted to his touch. The tip of his tongue found her most sensitive spot and teased it very gently while he inserted a second finger into her.
In an instant the purrs turned into a continuous moan. He could feel her leg muscles contracting. As the teasing of his tongue grew more pronounced, she arched. Pushing her feet on the bed frame, she lifted her hips up to his face, searching for still more pressure. Instead of appeasing her, he went back to a lighter touch. She let out a small frustrated gasp. Her legs trembled. She had obviously been very close. Very close was all she would get for now. He wanted her to understand that he was in charge. So to make sure she understood it, he repeated the process. Every time, her moans grew louder, but after a while she no longer gasped in frustration when he slowed down. Instead she bucked against his fingers, testing and searching for a different source of release.
When she was covered with sweat and her entire body was trembling like a leaf, he decided it was time. He initiated the slow buildup once more, but instead of pulling back, he inserted a third finger into her and not so gently sucked on her sensitive nub.
Her entire body shook. A wild sound exploded from her, and before it grew louder, she grabbed the pillow and placed it over her face to muffle a scream. The tremors that shook her body made him come right then, too. He had not needed to enter her. The thrill of the power he held over her body had been enough.
He had sensed it right. That woman was going to drive him as mad as Kristina had. He climbed on the bed and lay next to her. Tossing the pillow away from her face, he pulled her over to him and held her while she came back to her senses.
Chapter 10
Caroline
AT 11:00 A.M. CAROLINE was pacing in her apartment. She was very excited about the upcoming Sunday lunch. She would finally meet face-to-face that strange man who had moved in with Ariane after one single weekend of taking her classes.
She found it fascinating that this man had moved into Ariane’s life so quickly. He obviously had something that Patrick didn’t have. It was not physical. Sure, Peter was a nice-looking man, very stylish and suave, but Patrick was a lot hotter and probably younger.
Even though she was soon to be a century old, Caroline had, thanks to good surgery, regained perfect vision and, thanks to good genes, kept a very sharp mind. Okay, maybe she was forgetful at times, but only about matters that bored her. That wasn’t age related; she’d been like that all her life.
Lately she had put her good mind to use by thinking about Ariane’s life. It had turned into her favorite activity, and she had come to the conclusion that she needed more data to get a better understanding of the situation. She knew Patrick well enough. What she needed was to have a better look at Peter. Hence the Sunday lunch invitation.
Ariane, who had the key to the service entrance that led directly to Caroline’s kitchen, dropped by around noon. Even though she remained in her living room, Caroline noticed that Ariane had come alone. She did a quick kitchen check after Ariane’s departure and found a yummy quiche Lorraine warming in the oven. Ariane came back ten minutes later. Caroline checked in the kitchen again and found a large salad bowl and a crème caramel in the fridge.
Caroline chuckled to herself as she walked back to her dining room to await her guests. For two weeks the meals Ariane had brought had been bread-free. She’d gone out of her way to come up with main courses that wouldn’t require anything from Patrick’s bakery. Lately Madame Caroline had eaten a mushroom risotto, beef lasagnas, shrimp pad thai… She had enjoyed all those meals very much, but she was longing for a large cheese tray with an assortment of bread. And not just any bread—the little ones that Patrick had created for Ariane to complete her perfect meals.
At 12:30 p.m., Caroline went to open her front door to Ariane and Peter. She offered them a glass of Champagne with gougères, tiny puffs of cheese. One look at Peter, and Caroline had a sick feeling in her gut. She just had to make sure before she told Ariane to run for the hills.
Madame Caroline’s English was flawless. Her second husband, God bless his soul, had been an English lord. She told Ariane and Peter that she had lived in Great Britain for several years with him before he suffered a fatal coronary. She had been very sad to lose him but so happy to come back to gay Paris.
“Oh, talking about gay Paris,” Madame Caroline said, turning to Ariane. “Do you know that you made the cover of the Gay Paris Gazette?”
“I did?”
“Well not you, per se. There was an entire article about
last Tuesday’s free concert, and it’s illustrated with a picture of the crowd dancing. The picture focuses on Jean-Michel’s Charles. Do you want to see it?”
Ariane laughed. “Absolutely. But what I really want to know is how come you’re reading the Gay Paris Gazette.”
Caroline left the living room for her study without answering. When she returned, she had two copies of the Gazette in her hand. “I read it because I own the rag. It’s a long story for a rainy day, but I can give you the short version now. I lent money to a friend. He died of AIDS, that dreadful disease, in 1989. I inherited the paper, which turned out to be a profitable enterprise. So I kept it. Anyway, I’ve ordered two extra issues. I figured you and Charles would probably want to frame it or something.”
“Thank you. That’s so sweet. I’m sure Charles will appreciate it,” Ariane said as she unfolded the paper.
The photographer had caught the happy feel of the crowd by centering the picture on a group of four: Jean-Michel, Charles, Ariane, and Patrick. Only Charles and Ariane were recognizable. The picture caught Charles’s perfect profile as he was hugging Jean-Michel. He had also captured Ariane’s lovely smile as she stood next to Charles but looked up to another man. That other man was Patrick, and he was holding her very close.
Caroline studied both Ariane’s and Peter’s expressions as they looked at the picture. Ariane smiled, probably remembering fondly precisely the moment when the shot had been taken. The photograph had captured an instant when she looked completely carefree, dancing with her friends. Peter’s face was devoid of any expression. He did not comment or ask who the man was. But he did ask when the photo had been taken.
“Last Tuesday,” Ariane said. “There was this huge party on the Place de la Bastille to celebrate the new ‘marriage for all’ law, and I went with the boys. We had a great time.”
Caroline realized that Ariane had no clue how furious Peter was. It was clear to Caroline that as far as Peter was concerned, Ariane should not have gone out with other men after he had claimed her as his. Ariane surely had not realized what type of relationship she had agreed to enter into.
For an instant Caroline got lost in her thoughts while studying Peter’s striking face. The cold-tempered men were the most dangerous. A hot-blooded one would scream and make a scene. He would demand an explanation, give a chance to apologize, and possibly engage in some passionate reconciliation sex. Cold-tempered men like Peter, on the other hand, were unpredictable. The only certain thing was that there would be a price to pay.
Caroline shuddered at the thought and prayed that her too-vivid imagination was leading her to the wrong conclusions.
They moved on to the dining room and shared the lunch Ariane had prepared. Caroline made Peter talk. She asked questions about his work, his field of research, and his university. Peter answered in great detail. Caroline was amused by the fact that men never change. If you made them talk about themselves, and if you appeared to listen as if it were the most interesting conversation you had ever had, there was no limit to the amount of information you could get out of them. Caroline asked about Mary and her giant boyfriend. Peter laughed and said that he could not exchange more than three words with the man before getting bored out of his skull. He admitted, however, that Mary was quite taken with him.
“I’m not sure how long this will last,” Peter said. “George just flew to New York and moved in with her. A bit too quickly, if you want my opinion. But Mary didn’t ask for my opinion, so for once, I didn’t volunteer it.”
“That’s amusing,” Caroline said.
“What is?” Peter asked, looking genuinely puzzled.
“That you think your sister is acting a bit too rashly by letting a man she barely knows move in with her while you…” She left the sentence unfinished and indicated with a gesture of her hands that there was no need to elaborate.
“While I what?” Peter sounded annoyed.
For a university professor, this man was really slow, thought Caroline. “While you move into Ariane’s place when you’ve known her no longer than your sister has known George.”
Caroline watched Peter smile as he finally understood what she had said.
“You’re absolutely right,” he said. “I hadn’t seen it that way. I have a double standard. I object to my sister letting a strange man move in with her while I find it perfectly reasonable for Ariane to let me move in with her.”
“Precisely,” said Caroline. “I suppose you worry about your sister because you don’t know what kind of man George is.”
“That’s right.”
Looking straight into his eyes to let him know that she meant business, she said, “So you’ll understand that I worry about Ariane because I’m not sure what kind of man you are.”
“Do you two realize that I’m sitting at the table with you?” Ariane asked. “It’s very annoying to be talked about as if I weren’t here.”
Caroline ignored Ariane’s remark and kept staring at Peter, daring him to answer her and to tell her that Ariane would be safe with him.
“Oh, seriously,” said Ariane. “I’ll go get dessert, and I would appreciate it if this stare-down contest was over by the time I get back.”
As soon as Ariane left the room, Caroline let her mask fall.
“Peter, I know perfectly well what type of man you are.”
“You do?”
“I was married to one just like you. You’re possessive, manipulative, and controlling. You’re ruthless and will stop at nothing to get what you want. Those are qualities that I looked for in a man, and I respect that type of dedication when it comes to one’s professional life. What I’m not happy with is that your… controlling nature extends to the private sphere. I know precisely the type of relationship you have in mind, and I can tell you it is not appropriate for Ariane.”
“And you know that because?” Peter’s voice was icy.
Caroline toyed for a second with the idea of telling him about Ariane’s disastrous first experience and thought better of it. He did not love Ariane. He just wanted to possess her. If she gave him any information, he would use it to his advantage. He would be more devious in his controlling ways. The less he knew, the better. She hoped he would try to come on too strong. If he did, Ariane would get a chance to recognize the signs sooner.
“I know because I was the type of woman who played games too. I know the type that enjoys the kind of man you are, and she’s not that type. She won’t submit to you, or if she does, she’ll be broken and you won’t like your toy anymore.”
“I guess we’ll have to see about that.”
Caroline didn’t answer and was wearing her sweet little-old-lady face when Ariane walked back into the room with three dessert plates and the crème caramel. “Ah, le dessert!” she said, all smiles for Ariane. She was giving them a week. After that she was going to have a heart-to-heart conversation with Ariane.
In the meantime, she would enjoy the crème caramel and go take a long nap.
She was feeling more and more tired these days. But what could you expect? The machine was old, and there were no more spare parts she could replace that would make her last longer. Shaking away her pessimistic thoughts about her life expectancy, she took her first bite of the dessert and said, “C’est délicieux, comme d’habitude.”
Chapter 11
Ariane
ARIANE AND PETER LEFT MADAME Caroline’s house after lunch, and since the weather was finally starting to warm up a bit, Ariane suggested they go for a walk or take a bus ride around Paris.
“I’m still jet lagged,” Peter said. “I’d rather stay home if you don’t mind.”
“Whatever you decide is fine with me. Actually I could use a nap. For some strange reason, I haven’t been getting much sleep at night.”
“Are you complaining?” His tone of voice was very cold.
“Oh, God, no!” said Ariane, laughing as she locked the door behind them. “I’m joking. What’s with you? Have you lost your sense of
humor?”
“Yes. Actually, I lost it just before lunch.”
“Why?”
“You try to figure it out since you’re so smart and witty.”
Ariane stopped and looked at him. She had a quick temper, but she had learned to keep it in check through teaching the difficult teenagers of a vocational school. If she had not, she would have happily slapped a few of them, and that type of behavior was frowned upon by the French Ministry of Education. So she counted to ten in her head, took a deep breath, and said with the most pleasant tone she could muster, “Listen to me, Peter. I realize that unlike you I do not have the experience of sharing my life with someone for a decade. As a result, I’m not as familiar as you are with the proper way to interact with a partner. What I do know, however, is that I’m no mind reader. So if you have something to say to me, say it. If there is something I did or did not do that annoys you, tell me. If you do, then I will know what the issue is, and I will probably modify my behavior accordingly to try to make you happy. On the other hand, if you don’t, I will probably continue to aggravate you because I will have absolutely no clue what I’m doing that annoys you.”
“You really have no idea?”
The look on his face was so incredulous that she almost laughed out loud. She stopped herself by chewing on her lower lip because she guessed he would not have taken it well if he thought she found his pouting amusing.
“No. Seriously, I don’t.”
She counted to thirty this time in her head as she waited for him to answer. Then she grew tired of watching him glare in silence. Instead of lashing out and calling him a sulky moody ass, she decided to retreat to her bedroom.
Peter followed her, taking the steps two-by-two and reaching the landing only a couple of seconds after her. He caught her by an arm violently enough to make her swing around and face him.
“Don’t you dare walk away from me when we’re having a discussion,” Peter growled.
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