Claudine

by Barbara Palmer

  She imagined the Russian “friend.” Young. Younger than her. Bubbly personality. Huge boobs. All Russian women were stacked—weren’t they? Orgasmed easily. Probably had two or three a night.

  Anger felt better than sadness. Depression drained the energy out of her. She made up her mind that nothing would interfere with her date with Reed.

  The doorman called up; Reed had arrived right on time. When Maria stepped off the elevators, she saw Reed chatting with the tangle-haired woman who’d made disparaging remarks to her in the elevator a few weeks ago. She could tell by the woman’s body language, the way she simpered and preened, how hard she was trying to impress him. This should be fun, Maria thought.

  She walked toward them with a leisurely swing of her hips. Reed’s face lit up when he spotted her. The woman turned her head to follow his gaze. Her jaw dropped. Reed put his arm around Maria and gave her a light kiss on the cheek. “You two know each other, I imagine?”

  Maria tipped her sunglasses down and looked over them. “I don’t remember whether we’ve met. I moved in recently. Do you live here?”

  “On the top floor,” the woman stuttered.

  “Oh, how lovely.” Maria gave her a fake smile and turned to Reed. “We’d best be off, then, hadn’t we?”

  Reed bid the woman good-bye, tightened his arm around Maria as they walked away. “Friend of yours?” he teased.

  “She has an attitude,” Maria said politely, and he chuckled. She loved New York on hot summer nights. The steamy smells of overheated pavement and gutters, everyone out on the streets, hawkers pushing their merchandise until well past midnight, restaurants overflowing, the torrid burlesque of neon signs and lights—on the street, in the store windows, at the peaks of roofs, on the caps of soaring high-rises.

  Reed hailed a taxi. “I had a fun idea for tonight if you’re game.”

  “Game for anything,” she said, his good spirits already lightening her mood.

  “It’s so nice out. Let’s walk on the High Line for a while. I know an amazing place for dinner in Chelsea. New start-up. Invitation only. No walk-ins.”

  “Sounds brilliant.”

  The taxi let them out at Twentieth Street and Tenth Avenue. They climbed the flight of stairs to the old elevated rail line the city had converted to a linear park.

  “These shoes weren’t made for walking,” she joked as they reached the top.

  Reed grinned. “Well then, my lady, we’ll just have to do something about that.” He guided her to a bench cloaked on either side with greenery, knelt and slipped off her shoes. Then he removed his own loafers and socks. “Nothing wrong with going barefoot.”

  The boardwalk and patterned stonework were kept scrupulously clean by park attendants, so they had no worries about hurting their feet. Maria laughed as Reed took her hand once more. She loved catching glimpses of the city below, through gaps in the young trees and grasses bordering the walkway, the angles of building tops looming so close you could almost touch them; one was decorated with artful graffiti. A skateboarder whipped past moms and dads with kids in strollers, babies strapped to their chests, an old man with a parakeet perched on his shoulder.

  Reed held her hand. “I’ve missed you like hell, lady. What have you been doing with yourself all this time?”

  “Recovering. I fell. Ended up with a concussion. How stupid is that?”

  “Oh shit. Is everything okay?”

  “Fine. I still get brutal headaches but not so often.”

  His tone deepened. “I looked for you on campus every day.”

  “I’ve been working at home since my injury. Thank heavens I’d finished the course work before. Now it’s only the thesis ahead.”

  “That’s right. You never sent me a draft. Thought you were going to.”

  “I’m not there yet. It’s still too raw. But I will. Thanks for remembering.”

  They reached the foot of the promenade, stuck their feet back into their shoes and descended the stairs. On the platform halfway down, Reed stopped, pinned her body against the railing and kissed her again. The touch of his lips spurred the memory of Andrei’s mouth on hers, and she felt a painful pang of loss. She pulled back.

  He raised his eyebrows. “Too public here?”

  “Oh, no.” Maria recovered herself. “When you tilted my head back, it hurt a bit, that’s all.”

  He hadn’t released her, his arms still held her close so her breasts pressed up against his shirt. She could feel his erection bulge into her crotch. “Damn, I’m sorry. I’ll be more considerate.”

  “No worries. The ache’s already going away.”

  “Right now I’d like to skip dinner and just carry you home with me.” He searched her face hoping to find the answer he wanted.

  “And what are your plans once we get there?” Her lips turned up in a foxy smile.

  He bent his head to whisper in her ear. “Strip you naked and fuck like there’s no tomorrow.”

  She hesitated. Do it, she said to herself. It’s the only way you’ll get this crazy obsession with Andrei out of your system. “That sounds like a better deal than dinner.”

  Reed owned the building where he kept his Midtown apartment. In the lobby he strode over to one of the two elevators in old-style ornamental bronze and punched in a code. He ushered her through when the doors opened. “This elevator’s reserved for my place. On the top floor.” Halfway up he pressed the Stop button. The elevator jerked to a halt.

  He pulled her to him. She ran her fingers through his salt-and-pepper curls and opened her mouth to his kiss. He lifted her dress up to her waist, rolled down her skimpy black lace panties to midthigh. She spread her legs and lifted her bum as he slipped his fingers into her wetness.

  She sucked in a huge breath. Felt a pleasant weakening in her limbs. He unfastened her earring and nibbled her ear lobe, kissed her neck. His breaths came faster. “Christ,” he said fiercely, “the one time I don’t have any protection on me.” Maria was panting when he withdrew his hand and tucked her dress back down. On the rest of the ride up, his words the one time rolled through her mind.

  The elevator opened into the apartment’s main room. Lights from a nearby building were bright enough that she could make out the humped shapes of furniture, the orientation of the white walls. Reed led her to his bedroom. He flicked on the switch to the en suite. It cast a muted light into the bedroom. She leaned against the king-sized bed while he fumbled in the bathroom cabinet to find a condom. She heard the snap of the foil as he withdrew it. He unzipped his pants and rolled the latex over his penis, yanked her dress up and took her by the hips, turned her around, bent her over the bed. “I want to see you from behind,” he said as he pulled down her panties. He covered her buttocks with soft kisses and inserted his fingers again into her vagina. She felt his tongue on her bottom while his fingers withdrew from her slit and rubbed over her clitoris.

  She slipped over the edge. It was a sharp come, short and intense. He pushed his penis into her forcefully. Grabbed her pelvis and moved rapidly, slipped out. He swore. Maria bent her back, tilting her bottom up so he could enter her again. A shotgun series of thrusts and he climaxed. He slumped over her, then pulled out and straightened. She heard him zip up his fly.

  “I knew you’d be magnificent,” he said, giving her a pristine peck on the cheek. “Come into the other room. I have something for you.”

  With the main room lights on, Maria saw his place was exactly what she expected it to be. Expensively furnished. Cork floor. Cool, corporate colors. The windows of the old building had been replaced by floor-to-ceiling views. Across one wall hung framed posters of Broadway plays.

  Reed went into the kitchen while she stood at the window gazing out at the view of city lights. Sex with him had been a curiously static experience. Her body felt dissatisfied. The orgasm had come and gone, unremembered. Still, getting off had been enjoyable. She had no quarrel with that.

  He handed her a glass of wine when he returned. “Chablis. Trust t
hat’s okay with you? It’s chilled.”

  “More than okay.”

  Reed picked up his glass. “Confession. I’ve been intrigued by you ever since I first saw you in my undergraduate class. I couldn’t do anything about it then, of course—the university frowns on such things—and I was married at the time. You’re an exciting woman, Maria. And I’ve never forgotten you.” He touched the rim of his glass to hers. “Why you haven’t been claimed by some guy, I can’t imagine.”

  “Actually, it’s the reverse. It’s me who hasn’t claimed anyone. I’ve had relationships, but I don’t like the thought of being tied down. You could say I’m commitment shy. And there’s a lot I want to achieve before I even consider anything permanent.”

  “Well, I’m going to change your mind about that.” He punctuated the statement with an easy laugh as if there was no doubt in his mind that he’d succeed. “I’m glad you’re single. It’s my good luck. Here’s another confession: I’d planned a long, romantic evening to seduce you. Instead, I tripped the wire. I just wanted you so badly.”

  She planted a quick kiss on his lips. “And I you.” A moment of guilt came over her. She hadn’t desired him as badly as she’d wanted Andrei. Not even close. But Reed was a far more logical match.

  “Sit over here, lady.” He gestured toward Italian leather banquettes arranged around a block of brushed steel that served as a low table. On it sat a beautifully gift-wrapped box and a tray of hors d’oeuvres from Chenwith, an upscale caterer that sold its delicacies on custom-designed china plates. He handed her the box while he removed cellophane from the plate of food.

  She untied the pink bow and carefully peeled back the paper. Inside lay a gold bracelet; one of its links enclosed a diamond. The gem’s facets sparkled with the cold beauty of complete purity, unique to diamonds. “Reed, this is stunning. You must be prescient, giving me a bracelet to match my earrings. I don’t know what to say.”

  He leaned over to fasten it onto her wrist. “At first I’d thought of emeralds to match your eyes, but you’re more like a diamond. You steal the show.” His eyes twinkled as he took her earrings out of his pocket. She turned her head left, then right, for him to slip the fastenings into the small holes in her earlobes. “But I can’t take the credit. I managed to wheedle it out of your maid. That those were your favorites.”

  “My maid?” Maria’s brow furrowed in puzzlement. A day woman came in to do laundry and cleaning, but she couldn’t imagine how the woman could have connected with Reed.

  “Lillian—isn’t that her name?”

  “Oh, she isn’t my maid, she’s . . .” Maria caught herself in time. “My stylist. She comes over to do my hair and nails. It’s much more convenient than hopping from one salon to another.”

  She quickly moved the conversation onto other topics, told him what progress she’d made with her writing, and he listened thoughtfully as they finished the bottle of wine and snacked on the food. He made a number of solid suggestions for how she could reorder the major points. As they talked, Maria became even more convinced that she’d been right. She and Reed had something better than a fleeting infatuation. Compatibility. They were on the same level. And if they ended up sharing a future, that would become the glue to hold them together.

  “You remember the rehearsal I mentioned? Of the Genet play?” Reed said, finishing the last drop of his wine. “Can you pop into the theater tomorrow afternoon for an hour or so? The director wants to review the optics and staging of one scene; make sure he’s got it right.”

  When he saw a protest beginning to form, he put his finger against her lips. “No debate now. I’ll send a car for you. If you come around three, I’ll make it clear you have to be out of there by five.”

  “Will it just be us?”

  “Us and the director. And those streetwalkers too. I mentioned them before—remember?”

  Maria’s face fell.

  “You’re okay mingling with a bit of sleaze, aren’t you? I promise they won’t bite.”

  They went to bed again. She asked that he keep the lights off, explaining this was the longest she’d stayed up since her injury and exposure to light for too many hours tended to bring on her headache. In truth she feared him noticing the marks on her breasts. They’d faded now to pale half-moons, but she was worried he’d see them.

  It was a good call. He spent a long time on her breasts, nuzzling, sucking and rubbing her nipples between his fingers. “Fucking stunning tits,” he murmured. “Men must go crazy when they see you.”

  What was that supposed to mean? Was he referring to former boyfriends or—had he let something slip? She curled around his body, ran her tongue down his stomach. He had a soft belly. She tugged gently at the curls of his pubic hair and licked the length of his penis. Took the crown in her mouth while she used both hands to stroke him. His penis firmed. She slid the condom over him, mouthed his testicles, ran her tongue around them.

  He rolled on top of her. Stuck his tongue deep into her mouth and pushed his cock, full force, inside her. She wasn’t ready and it hurt a little. She sucked her finger and used her saliva to ease the slide of her finger into his anus. Grabbed his buttock with her other hand and squeezed. He bucked with pleasure and pumped harder. In the end, she simulated her orgasm. The missionary position never did much for her.

  Reed’s penis softened and he pulled out, lay on his back. “An English guy I once knew always described the aftermath of a good screw by saying he was shattered. How apt, eh? You’ve left me in pieces.”

  She turned to kiss him on the shoulder. “I’m glad.” She trailed her hand down his stomach. Within five minutes he was sound asleep.

  She watched the bedside clock. Waited for twenty minutes until his deep breathing told her he was gone for the night. She slipped off the bed, taking care not to make a sound. Put on her panties and dress, padded on her bare feet to the living room. She paused to make sure he hadn’t stirred and swooped up her purse. The diamond on her gold bracelet winked in the moonlight streaming through the window. She slid into her shoes and experienced a moment of panic when she thought she might not know how to work the elevator, but a simple push of the button opened the doors. She did not leave a note. In the morning she’d send over a bottle of good Chablis with a card thanking him for a lovely time.

  She stepped out of the lobby into the hot dark night. The city still hummed with life. She sauntered for a while up Eighth Avenue. Two guys walked toward her, holding hands. She smiled as they passed by. Love in all its forms—she approved. With the opening of attitudes about same-sex relationships, the enclaves forming the core of the LGBT communities might one day pass into history, but for now, Chelsea was still a gay hangout.

  Sex with Reed had not swept her off her feet. Pleasant, yes. Fireworks, no. Then again, she’d experienced more awkward first times with a lover. At least the absurd grip of her encounter with Andrei was starting to fade. She could nurture a relationship with Reed; she might have a future there.

  She looked in a darkened restaurant window at her reflection, her figure shaped by her beautiful black dress. Took pride in her long fine legs, slim waist, voluptuous breasts, pouty lips. She was still Claudine. A gorgeous harlot. Free. In control. Nothing yet had been lost.

  CHAPTER 25

  True to his word, Reed sent a car around to pick her up the next afternoon. he greeted her at the playhouse doors. She loved the theater world, and a surge of anticipation ran through her as the actors—the madam, a professional who Maria recognized from a famous TV series—and Reed’s streetwalkers gathered onstage. The banks of plush seats were empty except for her and Reed, sitting a few rows from the front. A young guy perched behind a video camera to film the scene. The director greeted them with a wave and walked over to sit on a stool to give him a better view of the action.

  All the women playing prostitutes looked fit and healthy. In reality, Maria mused, prostitutes in the nineteenth century would have died before they’d reached her age from the cur
se of syphilis, toxic alcohol or the slow destruction of opium. About halfway into the scene she heard footsteps hustling down the aisle. Maria and Reed both turned to see a thin, bald man hurrying toward them. “Hell,” Reed said with a frantic look in his eyes. “I didn’t know he was coming.”

  “Who is it?”

  “One of the play’s main backers. Nate’s thrown a shitload of money into this production.” The director looked up from his seat, and his look of abject annoyance transformed to a beaming smile upon recognizing his executive producer. Nate looked from Maria to Reed, and seemed to make a quick mental calculation. “Well, hello, Claudine,” he said brightly. “I see you two got together after all.”

  Maria went white. She remembered him; one of her clients from a few months ago. February, to be precise. While she didn’t recall most of her clients, his face stayed with her because he’d booked a session for a threesome on Valentine’s Day—a gift for his lover. She’d had the distinct impression the lover was not pleased.

  A sheepish look flitted across Reed’s face and he couldn’t meet her eyes. She leaped up before Reed had a chance to stop her, fuming as she fled up the aisle. He had known all along and deliberately played with her feelings just to satisfy his own curiosity.

  Reed caught up to her just as she reached the exit and held her arm. He gave her a wry grin instead of an apology. “That wasn’t supposed to happen. Believe me, I didn’t think Nate would be here.”

  She threw off his arm and pried the door half-open while he tried to hold it shut. “I should have guessed,” she said acidly. “And there you were, so sympathetic about my studies requiring me having to burn the candle at both ends.”

  “I wasn’t lying. I was intrigued. I wondered how you balanced your lives. I wanted to know what it would be like being with you.”