Resist

by Blanche Hardin

  As for my lover, the first over the top move he made was ordering the most expensive bottles of champagne—for himself—and a bottle of Pinot Gris—for me. I attacked the pseudo French bread they brought out for us though it certainly didn’t hold a candle to what you could get at any halfway decent boulangerie in France.

  I looked over the menu and wrinkled my nose as he refilled my half full glass of wine. “What’s the matter, baby? I know Southampton isn’t Versailles but it’ll have to do. Next year, how about we go to France and celebrate Bastille Day? We could still come back here for Labor Day though but it wouldn’t hurt to add that to the summer itinerary.”

  A smile spread across my face. “You’d do that? For me?”

  Blaine’s crystal blue eyes looked bright with intoxication and genuine happiness as he nodded. “Of course. Granted I’m only a quarter French, we both know the language, and it’s an integral part of your heritage. I think you’d like my Parisian apartment. Not only is it near some of the best shopping in Paris but it’s quaint, kind of small. Not too flashy.”

  “You mean as opposed to the estate here?” I looked around the restaurant and caught the eyes of several women who looked like they could have possibly fucked the man who was currently wooing me. “I feel just as out of place as Brigitte I suppose. Granted, I do have a leg up since I know your parents personally but we met while I studied at the University they work for. I’m certainly no Jocelyn Avery.”

  He buttered a piece of faux French bread and ate it. “No one said you had to be. What we shared . . . it was over two years ago we broke up. I’m just being melodramatic because I can be and I suppose the drama is a bit addictive. Kind of like flies attracted to shit. I’m so utterly fucking bored with my life when I’m not working, I can be a dick.”

  I swallowed harshly at this statement and picked up the menu again. “Well, both you and I will be very busy once we get back to L.A. It’s only until Tuesday. I’m sure we can find a way to amuse ourselves until we leave.”

  Blaine looked at me with a gaze of pure unadulterated sin. “You’re such a bad girl. How could I think you would ever bore the shit out of me was anyone’s guess. I bet you and Zed had more fun watching television. I should have been up there with you, not him.”

  “Are you ready to place your orders?” the waitress interrupted with just enough cheerful enthusiasm.

  “Actually, we are,” Blaine said as he looked at me before he winked. “For our appetizer, we’ll have the homemade Terrine De Foie Gras with Fig Jam and Brioche Toasts. The lady will have the sautéed Escalopes of Veal in Mushroom-Cognac Sauce with Mashed Potatoes and French Beans. I would like the grilled Filet Mignon—medium rare—with Mashed Potatoes, Asparagus, Roquefort Cheese and Port Wine Reduction.”

  “Great. Well, I will bring some water for you two when I bring out the appetizer if that’s okay with you, Mr. Pascal-Baasch?”

  “That’s fine, Tracy. Thank you.”

  Tracy blushed before she realized I was sitting across from Blaine. “Sorry, I’ll have your appetizer out to you shortly.” She walked away with an extra sway in her bony hips.

  “A former conquest or someone with an interminable crush?” I questioned before I swigged on my wine. “Thanks for ordering for me. This menu is just . . . so fucking pretentious, I can’t take it. How did you know I like veal?”

  Blaine’s eyes had stopped being playful and had an outright predatory look to them. “The same way I know if I slid your legs open, I could smell your desire for me. It’s innate. That and I did a hell of a lot of research before I hunted you down . . . so to speak.”

  “Like an animal . . .” I whispered more to myself than him.

  “No . . . more like a predator scoping out his prey. I think that’s very different than your run of the mill generic animals, my dear heart. I’m the lion and you’re the lovely, doe-eyed gazelle.”

  “Is that what I am?” I whispered back. “I’m disappointed, Blaine. It never occurred to you that I do what you want because I actually like doing it . . . not because you want me to?”

  “Of course you do it because you want to do it. I’m not an idiot, babe. And just because I have had a few drinks doesn’t mean my senses have flown the coop. I know exactly why you do what you do . . . when you do it.”

  “Then don’t you ever mistaken me for another Jocelyn and believe I’ll stand by idly and deal with infidelity. I gave you my virginity—that is true—but I never asked you to declare undying love to me. Hell, I’m not even asking for a ring on my finger—all I want is for you to be true to me while we carry on our affair, regardless how long it lasts. Do you understand that?” I explained in a calm voice.

  Blaine ate another piece of bread. “If you can make demands from me then I certainly hope I can do the same from you. If you ever fuck my brother, you’ll regret it. I’m not talking about what Zed might do to you—I’m talking about what I’ll do to you.”

  “I don’t intend to fuck Zed, Blaine.”

  “You think it will always be this easy between us?”

  “I’m not stupid and I know we’ll have some very fucking rough patches because you are a difficult man to like let alone love. Actually, I take that back—you seem to only despise the ones you’re supposed to love. Maybe I was better off being your friend,” I said in a low voice as my eyes never left his crystal blue orbs.

  “Cute.” Blaine stopped speaking as Tracy delivered our appetizer and two glasses of ice water. He waited until she left before he served us both with the plates provided and refilled my wine glass followed by his champagne flute.

  “Did you know when the French doors to our suite are open, voices carry? I heard what Zed said about me and why I was drinking. I’m not saying he’s right—I’m not sure I know what love truly is although I know a lot about lust and desire. I do know you’re different and special. Yes, I feel something for you that’s deeper and far more than anything casual but I may never tell you I love you. You heard what Jocelyn said and what she revealed about me . . . well, there weren’t any half-truths in her statements.”

  I touched his knee under the table since I knew how much he hated initiated contact or public displays of affection he didn’t show to me first. “I know but you said it yourself, Blaine. You were twenty-seven when the relationship ended and twenty-three when it began. Did she . . . know about what you did for a living?”

  “You mean the films?” He swigged from his champagne. “She knew about the fake snuff shit but no . . . she didn’t know about the real ones I made.”

  My hand lifted from his knee and quickly grabbed my wine glass. “How could she not know?”

  “How did you find out?” Blaine’s crystal blue eyes bore into mine. “I mean, a client wouldn’t tell you for fear of being caught with evidence that could send them to prison and ruin their reputation.”

  “My ex-boyfriend. I’m afraid his deceased father was one of your clients. We had a movie night every week and he would come over with these outright bizarre films I’d never heard of or seen. We’d gone through the usual French fare, Spanish and British films that were downright surreal and strange.”

  I paused to taste the Foie Gras on Brioche toast and nodded approvingly. The appetizer was much better than the French bread. “Anyway, his dad died and he had found a key to a safety deposit box. He didn’t tell his mother about it even though it had bearer bonds and shit ton of cash along with some heirloom jewelry. It also contained three of your . . . films we later watched. They were Blu-ray discs so they couldn’t have been very old and both of us debated for at least two months whether they were real or fake.”

  “Who was your ex if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “Jeremy Bergen,” I replied after a sip of wine for courage. “Can you . . . just leave out his issues with sex when you talk to him? He was considered quite the catch when I was in graduate school but little did the women know he wasn’t playing hard to get, he just wasn’t interested in what they were offe
ring, period.”

  “Of course. I’ll be discreet and besides, I would never approach him myself anyway. That’s much too dangerous. I do have people who handle that for me. I can’t have my work just floating out there . . . it’s far too dangerous.”

  “I agree.”

  The rest of dinner passed quickly enough, filled with small talk about plenty of much ado about nothing topics and industry gossip.

  By the time we left the restaurant, we were pleasantly drunk and full. It was less than a five-mile drive back to the estate or I wouldn’t have trusted Blaine at the wheel of the black Range Rover he drove with the ease of someone one hundred percent sober.

  “I never told you tonight but that dress is beautiful on you. I wasn’t sure if you would wear such a purchase if I bought it but I’m glad you did.”

  I looked over and smiled at his profile. “Thanks. It’s a gorgeous dress but you’ve spoiled me lately with so many expensive clothes, shoes, perfume and undergarments, I feel like . . . someone special.”

  “But you’re not wearing anything under that dress, correct? Remember, that was the rule?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with my memory, sweetie. No panties . . . you can check if you want.”

  I knew I was goading him but it felt so good to be so bad. I knew he would check and sure enough, his right hand stopped gripping the steering wheel and made its way underneath my gorgeous, avant-garde Chanel dress from the 2014 spring collection and he cupped his hand over my mound before parting the lips and slipping two fingers inside me.

  It caused me to hold my breath, my intake partly shaken but the outtake was ragged with lust, want and need.

  I stared at his profile as he removed his hand and slipped the two fingers, slick with my juices, inside his hungry mouth and suckled almost obscenely on them.

  “You always taste as good as you look. Could I have found a more perfect woman to ravage night after night?”

  “I don’t know. You tell me.” My tongue flicked over my lips, naked of the lip-gloss I’d worn due to all the drinking and eating we’d done.

  I was never one of those perfect women. I applied it once, sometimes twice and then forgot all together, using my tongue to moisturize my dry lips.

  Blaine parked the car in the attached garage and we both got out at the same time. He didn’t let me get far before he grabbed me, turned me around to face him and devoured my mouth with his. I was still there, on his tongue, like a delicious afterthought he didn’t want to get rid of and something about that turned me on even more.

  I pulled away abruptly. “Come on, let’s go to your suite. Directly. No stops—nothing. Hopefully the little problem we want is taken care of by morning but I need you now. Please.”

  He kissed my jaw and suckled on my neck. A bruise would be left at that very spot and I’d have to hide it with makeup. “I really should check to see if Zed was able to get rid of her.”

  I only ran my fingers through his hair because his hands were all over my lower back and occasionally squeezing my ass. “And what if she isn’t gone? Do you really want a drunken confrontation with a bitch that is high on drugs? I mean, seriously, Blaine?”

  He thought about it for a beat and kissed my lips quickly. “You’re right. I really, really want to fuck you and she’s a problem I have no real desire to deal with at the moment. Come on, up the stairs we go.”

  I grasped his hand closest to me into mine and we walked into the house, my Christian Louboutin heels click-clacking against the hard wood floors. Before I could stop him, he picked me up and tossed me over his shoulder, caveman-style, before he ran up the stairs, opened the door to his suite and closed it, locking the doors behind us.

  After he ceremoniously dumped me on the bed, I stood and slipped off my shoes. That was as far as I got because he wrapped his arms around me and his mouth was on mine—claiming and owning every inch of me. I began to unbutton his black silk shirt as he popped the button on his pants and slid out of them, kicking them to the side. Then he helped me out of my dress and tossed it on the floor next to his pants.

  Nothing but the illuminated pool area provided light for us but that was better than any candlelit evening to me. Two savage beasts we were—clawing at one another, all lips and tongues and hungry fingers. I grabbed his length and pulled, pumping to get him harder than he was before he pushed me down to the floor in front of him. I knelt on a Persian rug but the hardwood floors underneath were still uncomfortable against my knees.

  “Give me what I want, babe. Fuckin’ swallow my cock.”

  I knew, without discrepancy, what he wanted because he’d shown me exactly how to go about pleasing him. It was hard work, learning how to take the length of him inside my mouth while trying to downplay my easy gag reflex, breathing through my nose and playing with his balls at the same time.

  The texture of his skin, the smell of his cologne tickled my nostrils and his recently washed body made it easy to caress him in my mouth and I quickly fell into a rhythm of in and out, my tongue teasing the head of his dick every now and then. I knew exactly how long he would want this to last which was never very long because my mouth became a suction, an extension of the real place of warmth he wanted to sink into. He had never come in my mouth and I couldn’t hide my perplexity over this strange phenomenon. I didn’t know if it was because he was testing me or because he never wanted his release to be with me on my knees unless he was buried deep inside of me.

  I looked up at him and something flicked through his eyes that innately concerned me but I didn’t know what exactly. Wordlessly, he withdrew his dick from between my lips and bent down to pick me up. Gently, he sat me on the bed and spread my legs.

  “My turn,” he said.

  I smiled shyly and gazed down at his head as it disappeared between my legs. His tongue slid between my lips and flicked against my clit. I gasped out loud as he used his thumbs to spread me open as he toyed with my nub, sucking it in and out of his mouth while I tried to stifle my moans. I caressed my breasts and pinched my sensitive nipples while he continued to pleasure me.

  It was no secret I was addicted to everything Blaine did to me and I looked forward to sex. The pain of him using his cock as a weapon, meant to pump and slam me into submission caused a sensation to stir inside of me I couldn’t express with words. However pleasurable he made me feel with his cock inside of me, him giving me head came in a close second. There was something so completely erotic about his tongue caressing me, and his fingers as they teased my G-spot. His perfectly thick fingers that were also elegant at the same time, teasing me with such precision.

  He played my body like he must have run those same fingers over a piano. My orgasm washed over my body in a wave of pleasure and satisfaction though I still needed him to fuck me. Without penetration, oral sex was like an appetizer without the main course.

  Blaine kissed his way up my body, his hands taking over from mine, squeezing my breasts. His mouth descended on a nipple and suckled on it before he bit it and the pain tingled yet it felt erotically stimulating. I arched my back, pushing my body closer to him.

  His hands held my own against the bed in a Christ-like pose as he tackled the other nipple and licked around my areola before he suckled and then bit me. It was never hard enough to break the skin but it was done with enough pressure my nipples would be bruised and feel deliciously sensitive against his chest when he crushed our bodies together during the act of lovemaking.

  “Tell me how much you want my cock inside of you,” he whispered into my ear before he lightly bit my lobe.

  “I want your cock inside of me.”

  Due to him holding me down, he maneuvered his body and the head of his dick pushed against my soaking wet entrance. “That wasn’t very convincing, Vie. You’re not a fucking parrot. I want you to articulate how much you want me to fuck you. I can tease for a very long time.

  I tried to gain purchase by bending my legs at the knees and planting my feet on the bed but he was qui
cker than me as spread my thighs further apart and my heels slipped on the silk comforter.

  “I want you inside of me because I have never felt more alive than when you are controlling my body and manipulating it to do your bidding. It’s the closest I might ever come to you saying you love me because your touch is gentle yet tough like that of a parent caring for an errant child. You make me feel needed and wanted in a way no other man has, and more than that, I feel completely safe and protected by you. I know you don’t do the things we do with casual lovers and if anyone could have been my first . . . my one and only, I would have still chosen you. For the first time, I can picture spending the rest of my life with one man and . . . that person is you.”

  I breathed hard as I looked into his eyes and they resembled colorless orbs with black pupils in the dim light. I couldn’t believe he would be so calm after a speech like that but it was completely on the outside. When he thrust into me and his body settled over mine, I could feel his heart thundering in his chest like wild horses. He wasn’t subdued at all; he preferred not to say anything at all and that was fine with me.

  The strangest sensation came over me as he continued to hold my hands down and he slammed in and out of me with aching precision. It was completely organic although a part of me wanted to run my fingers through his hair, I also realized our issue in that moment.

  Blaine filled me completely and I squeezed my kegel muscles, aching to be as close to him as possible. His chest brushed against mine, my nipples hard and a ripple of pleasure coursed through my body every time they touched his chest. Our stomachs pressed against one another yet my legs were merely splayed. I hated that because it made me feel like his victim rather than a willing participant.

  The bold part of me emerging had grown frustrated and weary of the submissive I’d played and wanted to assert herself into the equation. My legs wrapped around his waist and my ankles rested, one on top of the other, wrapping his body completely into my own.

  I won’t lie and say we made love because we didn’t although we weren’t fucking either, no matter how brutal his thrusts inside of me were. We were both on an exploration and kept asking each other the same question with our eyes though it was never voiced out loud.