by Cynthia Dane
“Don’t ask me these things.” Judith put a gentle hand on his chest. “I can’t fall for a client, even if he is my patron. I’ve seen shit, Miguel. I’ve seen how it can destroy a woman more times than you can count in any language you know.”
“Let me guess… all those guys those girls fell in love with were trash to begin with. I may not be a rocket scientist, but even I can put two and two together. I know those guys like you know those girls. They love to pick out a new woman, change her life for the better… and then cast her aside like yesterday’s dinner plates. Sometimes they rewash them and use them again, but every time things get a little more run down. Emotionally speaking, of course.”
“Uh huh.” Judith was not impressed. “I’ve heard those gross euphemisms before. Keep going if you insist.”
“Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that I came to you as nothing more than a client looking for sex, some company, and maybe a new friend. That’s true. That’s how I’ve operated for years, but for some reason you’ve killed me inside more than any other woman has. Maybe it makes me sound like the most foolish man in the world, but I love you Judith. I have no strings attached to me. No other women. Fuck, I haven’t even been with another woman since I met you!”
She cocked her head. “Now I find that hard to believe. A guy like you? They’re lining up to ride your dick.”
“Maybe so, but I don’t want any of them. I always think of you first. I want to think of you forever.”
“Miguel… please, please don’t do this to me.”
“So you’re going to tell me that you don’t feel anything like that for me at all.”
“It’s not that simple. Miguel, I…” Judith turned toward the dark corner. Miguel held himself back from putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “There’s no point, don’t you see? I don’t intend to retire from my career yet. Part of that reason is because I’m not like most women, I guess. I never understood the appeal of having only one person for the rest of your life. I like the variety of my life. I’m bound to break your heart, no matter how much I really love you.”
“Judith.” He put both hands on her shoulders, easing her to look up at him. “You love that man, don’t you?”
Her cheeks flushed deep crimson. I knew it. She would never be able to choose. Not because she was unaccustomed to choosing… but because her brain was wired in a way that set her up for a different destiny from most women.
In a way, that was one of the biggest reasons Miguel loved her.
“I love you both,” she whispered. “Is that wrong?”
“Not if you’re honest about loving me as much as you say you do, Judith. I consider it an honor to be loved like that by you. I guess it doesn’t matter that much if… you love someone else too. Don’t be dishonest with me.”
“I would never.” Judith shook her head so violently that her braid threatened to come undone. “My games with you ended many weeks ago. I didn’t want to admit it then, because it was so unfamiliar with me. I thought I merely liked you a lot, but I always looked so forward to your visits. Not just for the sex, but because you were fun to talk to and treated me well. I like the way you feel and smell. Is that weird?”
“I’m pretty sure that’s normal, Judith.” You have no idea how much I want to smile like a kid on Christmas right now! Was it possible that Judith truly reciprocated his love? It didn’t seem possible, and yet…
He kissed her. He couldn’t help it. How could he, when the wonderful woman he adored was trying so hard to confess the same adoration to him? Any thoughts of other men disappeared between them. As long as she was with him right here and right now… he didn’t care who else there was, or who might have her heart. The thing about Judith was that she had big everything, including heart. Plenty to go around.
Her arms wrapped around him. Her tongue darted into his mouth. Her back pressed against the wall, inviting him to hold her there.
Miguel had no idea if anyone could catch them there. Quite frankly, he didn’t care. Half the world could look up one of their trysts on their phones. What was coming around a dark corner and finding him banging her against the wall going to change? Absolutely nothing, and that was fantastic!
And exquisite.
And crazy.
And a host of other English adjectives that Miguel was quickly forgetting as he pulled up her skirt and unzipped his trousers.
“Miguel…” Judith’s sweet voice melted him every time he heard it during lovemaking. “We can’t. Not here.”
“Like you couldn’t with him when you were on a date with me?”
It should never be said that Judith was an angel. Like she had fallen into Seth’s arms the week before, she was readily falling into Miguel’s now. He welcomed her with the full force of his hips and the power in his hands as they grabbed, squeezed, and pushed her against the wall.
They had to be quick. Not just harried and desperate, but quick. In Judith’s head, it was probably called a Wham-Bam Thank-You Ma’am. In Miguel’s, it was a chance to sate his lust and show Judith the amount of things she did to him.
To be fair, though, he was doing an awful lot of things to her right now!
“Don’t stop,” Judith begged, legs wrapped around his waist as he slammed into her and sucked her throat without a care for love bites. All he could think about was marking her as his; letting the world see the real Judith King as taken by Miguel Bolivar. They didn’t know shit from those pictures – or even those paintings – like they would know her as soon as he was done releasing all his pent up emotion inside of her. Again. “Oh my God…”
It had to be a record of some kind. Then again, this was Judith. If anyone was a master at coming on command, let alone a full thirty seconds into sex, then it was her.
His cock said warm wet tight yes yes yes and his heart said warm love right yes yes yes. The moment Judith began to come, her whole body squeezed around him. Arms. Legs. The depths of her inner walls as they stroked his aching cock and begged him to make her feel as if they were truly one.
She threw her head back against the wall, containing the sound of her scream but unable to keep her mouth closed or her hands curled into fists. Miguel didn’t know what planet she went to so quickly, but he wanted to join her.
Now.
He groaned right in her ear, eliciting a soft moan from her lips. His cock unleashed the first relieving wave of orgasm. Then another. Another. He could feel his wetness, her wetness, their wetness touching his skin and her flesh. Judith’s eyes rolled back in her head, nipples hardening through her dress. I never even saw her breasts tonight. Whatever. He knew what they looked like. He was happy to have her this much.
“Holy shit, you feel so good.” Her left hand gingerly wrapped around his neck before descending his back. “Don’t move. Please.”
“I don’t want to anyway.” His nose grazed hers, lips tasting the salt on her cheek. “I want to always be like this with mi amour.”
Her other hand moved through his hair. “I love you, Miguel.”
“And I love you, Judith.”
They shared this moment a bit longer before they both simultaneously came to their senses. Miguel helped her stand on her own feet again, her hair mussed but sweater dress unscathed.
“I have to get back to the party…” Judith struggled to get her eyes to focus on him. Damn, was I that good that quickly? “You should probably go… I’ll see you in a few days…”
Miguel fixed the hem of her dress. “You might want to stop by the restroom first, mi amour. You’re not supposed to embody those paintings, I think. Not quite that much.”
She strained to laugh. “Yes, you’re right.” Her hand coaxed his head down for one last kiss. “Thanks for coming by.”
“You’re welcome. Now get back to your client. I’m sure he’s paying handsomely for you.”
Now her laughter erupted. “Not as much as I’m going to pay for this later.”
Miguel watched her head back to the party, g
radually regaining her composure and confidence. That woman loves me. He didn’t care how many of those other men and women looked at her with the same gaze of awe that he had. They should. Everyone should see what he saw when she walked away, whether it was in a designer skin-tight sweater dress, lingerie, or a jeans and T-shirt.
They should see the same golden goddess that he saw, radiant and regal.
After gussying up in the men’s room, Miguel slipped into the back of the party. Far away was Judith, drinking another glass of champagne with her arm wrapped around Seth’s torso. Cameras flashed. People swooned over their casual glamour.
Miguel didn’t venture farther. He needed to get back. Catch a plane south so he could go home… he wasn’t going to stay in New York.
When he turned around, he faced a particular painting.
It was Judith, of course. He wasn’t too stupid to be surprised by that, but unlike the other paintings – which were of course beautiful in their own rights – this one showed her in a particularly vulnerable state. She lay on her bed, so languid and relaxed that Miguel didn’t doubt that she had recently been with a man, let alone enjoyed herself. Then Miguel looked closer. There was something familiar about the clothes strewn across her bed and the way her hair fell that way.
Fuck me, that was the day I barged in there. The client she said she had to get ready for… that must have been Seth.
He painted it?
The look on Judith’s face exposed the truth. “The Courtesan Caught,” the placard said. Miguel didn’t need to read the brief description. He saw the confusion, the pain, the light of love in Judith’s face. She swung between two worlds, each dominated by a different man. Any desire she felt or decisions she made would be a direct result of that day.
Yet the way it was painted, with such careful and loving attention to detail, crafted Judith’s boudoir world and brought it to life.
Miguel had seen a million paintings in his life. Galleries, classes, his mother’s private collection she had accumulated while he grew into the man he was now… they all showed certain levels of skill and passion. Miguel may not have known much about Seth, let alone have ever heard his name in the art circuit, but he could tell from studying this painting that he felt nothing less than an earthshattering love for his muse. Miguel did not doubt that the other paintings told a similar story, but it was this one, indirectly involving Miguel, that made him have an incredible realization.
There was only one way to settle this whole dispute. Miguel and Seth had won their separate battles, but in the War for Judith, something drastic had to be done.
Miguel sent his assistant Aimee a curt text and left the gallery.
***
Four days later, Miguel sat a bar known for its masterful chardonnay selection and German beers. He couldn’t say if they truly were masterful, since his mind was so full of what he intended to do, but they settled his nerves and allowed him to become the smooth and suave businessman his family had trained him to be.
“Would you like another, sir?” the bartender asked, holding up a German beer bottle.
“Make the next an ice water, and we’ll see.”
“Certainly.”
An exasperated sigh sounded behind him.
“Should’ve known it was you.”
Seth stood in jeans, collared shirt, and smart dinner jacket. All designer, of course, but far more casual than the tailored Italian suit fastened to Miguel’s body. Doctors. Artists. They’re the same in that regard. Both can only think of casual comfort. Not that Miguel could blame them.
“You probably should’ve known a lot of things before we came to this head,” Miguel said, shrugging. He motioned to the empty stool beside him at the bar. “Have a seat. First one’s on me.”
“Dare I?”
“I won’t take a swing at you if you promise to keep your fists to yourself as well.”
Seth absentmindedly rubbed his smooth jaw. I’ve never seen a fleck of facial hair on his face. Miguel scratched his own scruff, chin and upper lip often left unshaved for two days at a time. “Still feels like a trap. Smart thing to do would be to keep a wide berth between us.”
“I’ve got a few things to talk about with you.”
“Spare your damn breath.” Seth moved the leather bag strapped across his chest so it rested on his hip instead of in front of him. “I’ve got work to do. Unless you’re…”
“Yes, yes, paintings. Sit your fucking ass down.”
Monday morning Miguel had his weekly sit-down meeting with Aimee to go over the week’s plans. Since it was a national holiday, they had no other meetings to tend to, except for Aimee’s agreement to go out with the new friends she had made since moving to America. Which meant she wasn’t too happy when Miguel asked her to make a few choice phone calls – including to Joy Cheung. “Tell her I want to set up a meeting with her client about commissioning some work. No, if you tell her I want to simply buy a painting he already has, she’ll insist on handling it herself.”
This meeting had been finalized the night before. Miguel had given a fake name to make sure Seth showed up. Naturally, he looked like he wanted to leave as soon as possible.
However, he sat. Perched was actually more like it. A tentative pose to let him get up and march out of there as soon as it was most convenient. Not even the bottle of beer landing on the counter behind him got his attention – he would only stare at Miguel, something burning behind his amber eyes.
“Suppose I should thank you for coming to my show,” Seth grunted. Artists sure could be derisive. “I’m not a fool, though. I know what you and Judith did. Getting back at me. Fine. We’re even.”
“Did she tell you?” Miguel asked drolly. That other bottle of beer was sounding good, water or no water first. “Or had I left her so satisfied that she turned down your business that night?”
“Why I should…”
“Calm down. I’m here to offer a truce.”
“What?”
Seth grabbed the beer and spun around on his stool. Good. Miguel had his attention.
“Look, pal, we both clearly love the same woman. She tells me that she loves us both equally, and why should I disbelieve her? Come on. You don’t think she’s a one man woman, is she?”
“Do I look dumb?”
Does he really want me to answer that?
“Hear me out, all right? If you agree to my little scheme I’ve cooked up, we could both become happy men. Maybe she’ll be a happy woman, emotionally and financially.”
Seth gripped his bottle with a tense hand. “You’ve got ten minutes.”
Miguel only needed five.
Chapter 35
JUDITH
Another Friday afternoon, another set of rounds to make in the Château.
Since Monica was gearing up for her maternity leave, Judith was tasked with more chores. Didn’t help that Monica was told by her doctor to rest as often as possible and stay off those dainty feet of hers. So while the madam holed herself away in her office to do paperwork and have business meetings as usual, Judith became queen bee of the front end.
One of her favorite things to do was to use Monica’s key to access the camera control room. There were two, and the one by her chambers was the good one, full of cameras peering into everyone’s bedrooms and other private places that clients liked to use for sexual services. (Minus any bathrooms. Nobody would ever sign off on that.) Everyone knew about these cameras, since they were mostly for safety purposes, but few cared. When one exchanged money for sex in a pleasure house, they knew they were under surveillance.
Whether or not they knew Judith was watching was another matter.
“My condolences on that tiny dick,” she said, propping her bare foot up on the table so she could paint her toenails. The fumes in that room were going to get to her eventually. “Like throwing a hot dog down a hallway for poor Grace.”
She handled it like a pro, though. There was no sound on these live-feeds, but Judith could tell that Gr
ace was putting on the show of her life as she pretended to be enthralled with a client’s pencil dick. It must have worked, because that bozo looked so damn proud to be there, beautiful woman on her knees. It was either watching Grace or Holly, though. They were the only two girls currently with clients, the others out or lounging about as they waited for their appointments.
Who wanted to watch Holly? Not. Me. She was the epitome of over-acting. Lots of clients liked that, but Judith always wanted to roll her eyes until she choked on them.
That was until she saw something that unnerved the shit out of her.
Judith didn’t know the man Holly was with. He was new, from out of town… and beyond, probably. They got lots of clients like that. This guy? Right in front of the black and white camera he backhanded Holly so she crashed to her bed, hand on cheek and not in a hurry to get back up.
Toes half dried, Judith grabbed the keys and hit the panic button on the wall.
Holly’s room was only a few doors down the hall. Judith pressed her ear against the door and heard the muffled sounds of a man threatening to do worse if Holly didn’t do what he wanted.
Why I’m gonna… Judith lightly knocked on the door.
“Go away!” Holly called. She sounded fine. Yeah, right. Judith pulled out her ring of keys and thumbed through them until she found Holly’s.
No one in her business wanted to deal with this shit. Clients like whomever this was already had sexually violent tendencies, and being a woman – no matter how seasoned she was – Judith was at a distinct disadvantage, but nobody was assaulted on her watch, and that kind of “play” was absolutely not allowed. The man got the boot the moment he laid a rough hand on Holly.
Nevertheless, the next few minutes were tough to digest.
Yelling. Threats. The meeting of an ex-Navy Seal and a heavily pregnant madam who knew every law on the books. Before Holly could cry out again, everyone was in the room, tackling the guy, dragging him around, throwing blankets on top of Holly, and threatening to call police and lawyers. Peter the bouncer was enough to get the guy scrambling out of there. He left behind his wallet, but nobody was in a hurry to grab it and run it out to him. The bouncer offered to chuck it as his head and knock him unconscious.