by Kim Baldwin
They were sitting opposite each other at a table, engrossed in conversation. As she watched, Kash took Gillian’s hand.
Why am I putting myself through this? Isabel pushed herself forward, out of the hotel, vowing not to let what she had seen bother her or ruin her last morning in Paris. But she was in no mood for art, or architecture, or anything else the city had to offer. She wandered the streets without purpose until, finally, she recognized what was eating her up inside.
The revelation made her sit down hard on the nearest bench, stunned beyond belief. I’m jealous, she realized. Jealous. Me! And not only a little bit, either. I’m insanely and unbelievably jealous. She didn’t think herself capable. The emotion was entirely new, and though she didn’t like it at all, it was powerful, and driving, and made her feel incredibly alive. Why now? Why not with Sylvia? What exactly does that mean?
In her previous relationships, she’d never experienced the slightest bit of jealousy, though she’d had ample opportunities to. Not when the woman she was with flirted with a waitress, or ogled a passing stranger, or even shared a dance with someone a bit too provocative to be entirely innocent. When it happened, she merely recognized that her girlfriend was losing interest and that the end was near.
She’d never even been jealous with Sylvia, her most recent relationship and the one that appeared to have the most long-term potential. When Sylvia had bluntly told her, after two years together, that she’d fallen in love with someone she’d been secretly seeing from work, Isabel had been only hurt and disappointed. Felt rejected, yes. But not jealous.
Isabel certainly was jealous now, however. In spades, as they say. And the reason wasn’t so hard to figure out. I’ve never wanted anyone this much, she realized. Not nearly. I’ve been settling, all this time. Settling for what and who was offered. Even when it didn’t fulfill me or stir me the way I knew it should. The way Kash stirs me, merely by being close to her.
Why is that? she asked herself again. Why does Kash make me feel as though I’ll do anything—even make a fool of myself—just to have a chance with her? She couldn’t answer that question. She could only move in a new direction.
I won’t interfere if it’s Gillian she wants, Isabel vowed. I’ll grin and bear it, and be the supportive friend that Gillian has always been to me. But if I get any sign at all that it’s over between them, and it’s me that Kash wants…well, then, Isa will get another chance to come out and play.
*
“I can’t believe Izzy’s not here yet.” Gillian scanned the crowd congregating near the departure gate. Their flight to Rome was scheduled to start boarding in the next few minutes. “She’s, like, the most punctual person I know. Always early, never late.”
Kash was also watching for Isabel, but less obviously. She was unable to forget Isabel’s obvious disappointment. She didn’t like to hurt women unnecessarily, and she hoped Gillian let Isabel know soon that they hadn’t slept together. She certainly couldn’t tell her.
“Here she comes.” Gillian waved to get Isabel’s attention, and she headed over to join them.
Something’s wrong. Isabel appeared too serious and preoccupied, lacking the trademark ebullience that usually radiated from her. Her shoulders were slumped and her steps leaden.
And Kash noticed that Isabel barely glanced in her direction. I was right. She’s got it bad for me. The only question now is where and when. “Hello, Isabel.”
“Greetings, ladies.” Isabel dropped into an empty seat next to Gillian, trying hard to act nonchalant around Kash. What the hell is the matter with me? I’ve known her only a few days, but after running into her in that hallway I get three feet from her and my body has this insane visceral reaction. Her heart was drumming and her skin was hot. God! I want her hands on me so bad I can’t think straight.
“How you doing?” Gillian asked. “Get a chance to see everything you wanted?”
And a few things I didn’t want to see. “Guess so. Ready for Rome. Oh—thanks for bringing my bag.” Isabel massaged her temples. “I’m fine except for a headache that won’t quit.”
“Join the club.” Gillian chuckled. “Kash and I were comparing hangovers earlier. But I’m not complaining, mind you. A little discomfort after a great night in Paris certainly isn’t a bad price to pay.”
Great, huh? Yeah, rub it in. “If you say so.” Not that Isabel begrudged Gillian her night with Kash. She just wanted one of her own.
As Kash observed Isabel, she was a bit let down. As annoying as the unrelenting optimism she had come to expect from Isabel could sometimes be, she missed it. It was as though a spark had gone out of her. Talk about mixed signals. Make up your mind, Isabel. Maybe it was better to pass on her, after all. Too much baggage there if she’s acting all bent out of shape from seeing us dancing together.
Their flight began to board, which ended conversation for the time being. The senior flight attendant, recognizing Kash, offered to seat her in the spacious first row of the Airbus, several feet away from Isabel and Gillian.
She accepted. The fun had gone out of being around these two. Gillian could obviously take care of herself, and Isabel…well, Isabel needed to grow up. They could have a little fun if she’d let herself go, but Kash didn’t have the time or inclination to play nursemaid.
Perhaps it would be better to let them go their own way, except as necessary for the photo shoots. And of course, she would live up to her promise to show Gillian some clubs, if that came up. But it would be more for Gillian’s amusement than her own. The club scene, and her transient approach to sex and relationships, was less satisfying by the day. It’s the age thing again, that’s all. Stop thinking about it. Your birthday will get here soon enough.
*
A handsome Italian lad named Massimo met them at Fiumicino Airport with a sign that had all three of their names on it, but it was clear he didn’t need it. He called out, “Kash! Kash!” and waved as soon as he recognized her.
He was the Roman equal to Alain in every way, with the same fawning admiration for Kash’s talent and boundless zeal to serve her every whim.
His enthusiastic greeting ensured that everyone around them immediately realized that a celebrity was in their midst, and in no time Kash was surrounded by autograph seekers and flashes from cameras and cell phones, increasing exponentially as they walked toward the exit.
By the time they reached the car, the crowd was getting worrisome. People were pushing to get close to her and raising their voices to get her attention, so Isabel and the others were happy to get underway.
“That was almost scary,” Gillian said, shaking her head. “What a mob.”
“For some reason, I’m particularly big in Italy,” Kash said drolly.
Gillian chuckled, but Isabel didn’t find the reference humorous. It was merely another reason not to be so damn attracted to Kash.
She had set off an international scandal a year earlier, when she had been photographed at an after-the-Oscars party, kissing the young Italian beauty who had collected the Academy Award for best supporting actress. It would have been less newsworthy, perhaps, if Kash hadn’t also had her hand on the woman’s breast. And if the actress hadn’t just been televised kissing her producer husband with considerably less enthusiasm when her name was announced.
They rode through scarily congested traffic, with Massimo occasionally pointing out a building or site of interest. Isabel asked a few questions about some of the major landmarks, but was nowhere near the chatterbox she had been with Alain during their first hours in Paris.
The sights and sounds of the Eternal City captivated Isabel as much as Paris had. Rome, on this warm fourth day of July, was bustling and noisy, the sun-baked streets of the city alive with people and cars. The blend of ancient and modern mesmerized her.
But Isabel’s delicious proximity to Kash also distracted her. They sat nearly shoulder to shoulder in the back of the tiny Fiat, so she could smell Kash’s earthy perfume and surreptitiously watch the gentle
rise and fall of her chest.
Kash spent the trip to the hotel staring out the window, humming something under her breath. Isabel had noticed her doing that now and then, usually so low it was barely audible.
This time the tune was one she’d heard before. Isabel tried to place it. An old Beach Boys number. “I Get Around.” It was so pathetically appropriate she almost wanted to laugh. But Kash didn’t intend it to be humorous—that was clear from her distant, distracted expression. I don’t think she’s even aware she’s doing it.
Their accommodations were every bit as opulent as their suites in Paris had been. The prestigious Aldrovandi Palace Hotel was an oasis in the heart of Rome, adjacent to the lush and tranquil Villa Borghese Gardens and very near the Via Veneto and Spanish Steps. The posh interior of the hotel was perfectly in keeping with the elegance of its nineteenth-century exterior. Rich fabrics graced the upholstered antique furniture and elaborate window dressings, the finest linens adorned the beds, and the artwork on the walls celebrated the Italian masters.
“The magazine sure is doing all right picking where we stay.” Gillian stood at the window, admiring the view of the gardens, while Isabel unpacked.
“It’s great,” Isabel replied automatically. Just then, she came across Kash’s belt, which she had neatly rolled and stashed in her luggage, awaiting its return. The memory of when she had gotten it flashed into her mind: Kash in the dim light of the club hallway, shirt open, her body pinning her against the wall. She had fled the scene so fast she had been halfway back to the hotel before she realized she still held the belt.
“Okay, that does it.” Gillian abandoned the view and stretched out on the king-sized bed, giving Isabel her full attention. “Out with it. What’s bothering you? Where is that eternal optimist I know and love?”
“Nothing’s bothering me.” Isabel tried to put some conviction behind the statement, but she was a terrible liar, and Gillian could spot any attempt at evasiveness.
“Izzy, come on. You’ll tell me eventually. You always do. So let’s get it out of the way right now, huh? Maybe I can help.”
“Sometimes I wish you couldn’t read me quite so well.” Isabel kicked off her shoes and climbed onto the bed next to Gillian, with her back against the ornate carved headrest and legs stretched out in front of her. “Let me ask you something first,” she began, chewing nervously on her lip. “Is this thing between you and Kash…is it going anywhere, do you think?”
Gillian glanced up at Isabel. “Huh? Thing between me and Kash…what are you talking about?”
“You know…are you going to sleep with her again, I mean?”
Gillian’s forehead creased in confusion. “Again? I haven’t slept with her once, Izzy. Not that I wouldn’t like to. But she declined. What makes you think we did?”
“You didn’t? Really?” She couldn’t keep the glee out of her voice.
“No, I spent last night with a wonderful blonde in leather named Françoise.” Gillian yawned. “Who, by the way, was one of the most insatiable women I’ve ever had the delight to spend time with.” The grin on her face told Isabel that Gillian wasn’t at all unhappy with the way her evening had turned out, Kash or no Kash.
“Well, I saw you dancing together last night,” Isabel said, “then in the restaurant together this morning…so I thought—”
“We had one dance. She left—after asking about you, by the way—and then I ran into her today when I went to get coffee. That was all.” Gillian studied her face. “Hey. You’re really happy about the fact we didn’t…aren’t you?”
Isabel nodded, once. Slowly. Deliberately.
“What a moron I am!” Gillian smacked herself playfully in the forehead. “You? And Kash?”
Isabel nodded again, and her smile got bigger.
“Does she know?” Gillian asked. “Have you said anything to her?”
Isabel shrugged. “Hell if I can tell. I’ve caught her watching me like she’s interested. But no, I haven’t said anything.”
“You know what they say.” Gillian got up abruptly and pushed Isabel off the bed. “No time like the present. Strike while the iron is hot. Get your groove on. Okay, I’m all out of clichés, and I need a nap. Now go!”
Isabel knew if she stopped to think about it too long, she’d never do it. She grabbed Kash’s belt and caught the elevator to the penthouse level, but began having second thoughts as soon as the car began to rise. What the heck am I doing?
Kash had been upgraded to the Royal Suite, which had a view of both the gardens and the hotel’s private park and swimming pool. She was staring down at the pool, considering a dip, when she heard the rapping at her door.
“Hi.”
She couldn’t have been more surprised to see Isabel standing there, smiling uncertainly, a faint flush to her cheeks as though she had run all the way.
“Hello.”
“I hope I’m not disturbing you.” Isabel held up Kash’s belt. “I wanted to return this. And…and offer to buy you a new shirt.” Don’t stare, idiot. Don’t stare. But it was hard not to. In the heat of the late-afternoon Mediterranean sun, Kash had removed her shirt and wore only a very tight tank top. Black. God, she’s got great breasts.
Kash couldn’t help but smile, remembering when her buttons went flying and they had ended up all wrapped around each other. “Hey, it was an accident. Don’t give it a thought. I have plenty of shirts.”
“Okay. Good.” Isabel shifted her weight from one foot to the other, as though trying to find a reason not to leave. “Oh, I also wanted to say…thank you. For…catching me.”
Kash was struck by the look in Isabel’s eyes. It was hard to describe. Hungry came close. Passionate. The kind usually reserved for those times when a woman is well worked up and needs it badly.
Her reference to when their bodies had been pressed together, hearts beating out of control, surrounded by writhing bodies, breathy moans, and the heady smell of sex, sent Kash’s libido into sudden overdrive. She took in Isabel with a slow and lingering leer of appreciation, head to feet and back again, lingering on her breasts, hips, legs. Whetting her appetite, acknowledging the invitation.
“I have very fond…if unfinished…memories of that experience.” She held out her hand for the belt, and when Isabel extended it, she took Isabel by the wrist and pulled her into the suite.
“Should we? Do you…” Isabel was breathing hard, pupils dark with excitement.
“Do you want to analyze this, or do you want to fuck?” Kash spoke even as she shut the door and turned Isabel to face it, planting Isabel’s hands on the door at about shoulder height to brace herself. It was a purely rhetorical question, but the next one was not.
She pressed their bodies together, her crotch against Isabel’s ass, her hands around Isabel’s waist, and put her mouth close to Isabel’s ear. “Tell me that you want this.”
“So much, Kash. So much.” Isabel’s voice was breathy and low, and as she spoke her desire, a shudder ran through her body that Kash felt as a ripple against her chest and groin.
She skimmed her hands over Isabel’s breasts, making the nipples rigidly erect by the third pass, and as Kash put one thigh between Isabel’s legs to urge them farther apart, she heard her first murmured moan of pleasure.
More sounds followed as she let her hand stray from breasts to stomach to hips, stroking in ever more firm and purposeful passes under Isabel’s tight cotton T-shirt and dipping low into the waistband of her khaki shorts. In no time, Isabel’s ass began to move against her crotch.
She slipped Isabel’s shirt over her head, unfastened her bra and removed it as well, and smiled inwardly when Isabel dutifully returned her hands to the door. Now she found only naked flesh, and the passes over Isabel’s breasts and stomach produced more breathy sighs and moans, louder now.
It didn’t take long. She knew it wouldn’t. But she waited until she heard the plea to proceed.
“Please. Oh, please, Kash!” Urgent. Insistent. Exactly the way sh
e liked it.
Then she unfastened the clasp of Isabel’s shorts and slipped them and the sheer white panties beneath down and off.
Isabel tried to turn around, but Kash reacted instantly, pressing her hands firmly back against the door. “No.” Only the one word, but the message was clear. Move again, and I’ll stop.
There was a faint nod of acquiescence, and Kash rewarded it by pushing her crotch back roughly against Isabel’s ass as she reached around and slipped her fingers into the silky wet folds between her legs.
“Oh!”
Isabel’s gasp of pleasure shot through Kash and settled low in her belly. She could feel her own arousal rising rapidly as their bodies swayed against each other, and she fought to keep from touching herself. But Isabel excited her, more than any woman had in a long while, and she barely stayed focused on what she was doing as she stroked Isabel higher, playing lightly over her clit, taking it slow.
Then, easily and naturally, she withdrew from Isabel and quickly shed her tank top, so that when she resumed, her naked chest pressed against Isabel’s back, warm flesh to warm flesh.
The brush of her nipples against Isabel’s back sent a jolt of pleasure straight to her groin, and she bit back a groan before reaching down, one hand in front of Isabel and one behind, to resume her intimate caresses.
She took her time, getting Isabel deliciously wet and open before she pushed into her. Then she let Isabel set the pace for her thrusts by the rocking of her hips, a driving tempo that quickly sent her over the edge.
Isabel cried out when she came and slumped back against Kash, panting heavily, eyes closed. Her hands slipped off the door finally, and to her sides, and Kash embraced her, supporting her weight, as Isabel regained her breath.
After a very long moment, Isabel put her head back on Kash’s shoulder, and Kash caught the floral fragrance of her hair. It roused her from her haze as though someone had shaken her.