Exception to the Rules (12 page)

“It all depends on the situation. When I just want to get off and get to sleep, I use the vibrator.”

“And when you want it to be more sensual? To last?”

“I do it by hand.”

“Those are the ones I want to focus on.”

“For some reason, I’m not surprised.”

He leaned closer, resting his elbows on the table. “I want to hear about those fantasies. The ones that keep you up for hours.”

Gaea fidgeted in her seat. “I don’t know, Bas. Yes, I promised to be honest, but I’m not sure I can be this open. This is really private stuff.”

“That’s the entire point.”

“Still—”

Dinner salads and bread arrived, giving her a reprieve, but he wasn’t about to let her off the hook. He could tell she was feeling more than discomfort, that the conversation, if played well, could lead to much pleasurable mischief. He intended to play it for all it was worth.

They ate for a bit, and he didn’t push, but after she’d eaten her second piece of warm sourdough, and had just a few pieces of lettuce left in her bowl, he figured it was time.

“Would you like another drink?”

“Yes,” she responded too quickly.

He ordered them both a refill, waited for the plates to be cleared, then turned just enough in his seat that she had all of his attention. “Fire away,” he murmured.

“If only I could.”

He chuckled, but didn’t give in. “Tell me about the most frequent fantasy. The one you come back to the most often.”

“I’m afraid you’ll find it completely boring and unimaginative.”

“Don’t worry about that. Just tell me the truth.”

“Very well. But if I spontaneously combust, you’re explaining what happened to the fire department.”

“No problem.”

Sebastian leaned back, making sure she couldn’t see his crotch from where she sat. Gaea didn’t need to know what sort of reaction she was getting. At least not yet.

“I guess the most frequent fantasy is the one where there is a severe thunderstorm and I’m alone in a cabin in the woods. It’s dark, and the winds outside are howling. I have a fire going full blaze in the fire place.”

“What are you wearing?”

“A robe.”

“The satin one?”

Gaea looked at him as if he was getting too close to some imaginary line. Bas leaned back a little, put his by his sides.

“Yes, but sometimes it’s another robe.”

“Okay. Sorry to interrupt you.”

“Well, you are the one asking the questions.”

“True, but I’ll try not to interrupt.”

“Okay, so where was I?”

“Thunderstorm. Cabin. Alone. Dark.”

She frowned at her drink. “I’m warm, and thankful to be in out of the rain. I lie down on a big fur rug in front of the fire, and I’m kind of mesmerized by the flames. Before I know it, I’m touching myself.”

“How?”

Gaea glared at him briefly, then went back to staring. “Slow, sensual. I’m not in a rush. The crackling of the fire makes me drowsy, but not sleepy. My hand moves down until I find...”

He nodded his encouragement. “Then I close my eyes, and it gets closer...”

Bas held his breath, praying she wouldn’t stop.

“...I hear a noise. I open my eyes, and there’s a man standing right next to me, watching me.”

“Who is he?”

“I don’t know. He’s just a man. Dark, tall, well-defined body. I don’t know how long he’s been there, and I’m not at all embarrassed at what he’s seen. I just keep touching myself. He takes off his shirt, then his boots. And then he reaches for his belt.”

Sebastian had to have a drink. He wanted to place the glass of ice on his erection, but he thought that might be a little blatant.

“He undoes his fly, and slowly takes off his pants. He’s, um, hard.”

Bas coughed.

She glared again.

“Sorry.”

“This is hard enough.”

“Tell me about it.”

That earned him anther scowl. But it didn’t stop her. Gaea just found that glass fascinating again, and went on. “Once he’d undressed, he lies down next to me. We kiss. For a long time. Then he starts touching me in the same places I touched myself. First, my…my breasts, but it’s different because his hands are so large and callused. It’s a totally different experience. He tells me to stop. To touch him instead, and I do. Then his hands slide down my body until he, you know...”

“Yeah.”

“And he starts rubbing in small circles. The pressure is just right, not too hard or soft, and he keeps rubbing, and I let him go and I start getting closer and closer, and then I start to come with a howl that rivals the raging winds outside. He climbs on top of me, spreads my thighs with his legs and he slams into me like he’s found the best place on earth to be.”

Bas let out the breath he’d held forever. Gaea tossed back the rest of her drink. Their waitress coughed, put their drinks down, and backed away her face as red at the cranberry in Gaea’s cape cod.

Chapter Ten

Kallie looked in the bathroom mirror and fought back a smile. Several minutes ago, she’d covered her face with a very unattractive-looking green mask, one she’d found in a woman’s magazine, that was supposed to make her skin radiant. She’d also conditioned her hair with mashed bananas, and timed it so that she could wash the entire experiment off at once. But that wasn’t for at least another ten minutes. 

In the meantime, she’d pulled out her hair removal kit and sat down on the commode lid to begin the long and laborious process of removing all signs of hair from the neck down. She couldn’t keep her thoughts off the wonderful day she’d spent with Dax. Yeah, yeah, she knew it didn’t mean anything, but he’d been so extremely kind to her, it seemed like a dream.

They’d talked about his childhood and hers, which weren’t so different. She was the youngest of five, he of six. She’d been on the receiving end of the wholehearted encouragements from her parents to push herself and accomplish everything she could in life, where he’d had the support of his mother to keep him. The one area in which they differed the most was that Dax’s father was a surly and rigid man who had believed Dax’s looks automatically made him suspect, and he’d tortured his son constantly, accusing him of being gay and having feminine ways. His father’s treatment had been extremely difficult for Dax, who was a sensitive boy, and had caused him to be circumspect of every emotion.

Finally, in college, at the University of Nebraska, Dax had discovered he wasn’t gay, wouldn’t become gay, and whatever anyone else thought of the situation was their problem. From then on, it was easy to accept the modeling jobs that had been offered. He’d left school with one year to finish when the offer of money became too much to ignore.

He’d moved to New York three years ago and had met with more success than he could have ever imagined. He’d been on numerous television ads, countless magazines, billboards, including one so famous it had become the reason she’d learned of him. It was simply him in a pair of boxer briefs, and people as far away as England recognized him instantly. Fame had its drawbacks, however, most of which revolved around lack of privacy, but he’d said he figured there was always a price to pay for the sort of life he was living, and he’d grown accustomed to it.

He’d recently gone back to school against the advice of his manager, but he didn’t fret over it. Dax had a plan, and it seemed to promise him a wonderful future.

Kallie had told him of her college days, and how she never truly fit in with any crowd she’d found. She wasn’t as serious as the chess club geeks, and not as silly as the beer-drinking party lovers, but somewhere in between. She’d had a few good friends, but mostly she stuck to studying and listening to music. After she graduated, she’d researched the job market carefully and had been offered three excellent jobs, but it was Gaea she wanted to work with. She’d never regretted the choice, although she didn’t see herself following Gaea’s strict “work only” ethic. Kallie still loved music, mostly classical and oldies, with some soft rock thrown in, particularly that of Eric Clapton, to round out her tastes. That’s when Dax had given her that unbelievable smile.

“I know him,” he’d said.

“Eric Clapton?”

“Yes. He’s a good friend. I could introduce you.”

She’d been dizzy with the joy of it. To meet Eric Clapton would thrill Kallie to the roots of her hair, but to have Dax introduce her! It was simply too much to think about.

Kallie finished removing the hair from one leg and picked up the container to slather the other with hair remover when the phone rang. She hopped down off the counter and hurried to the other room, a combination living room and dining area, to get to the phone, fully expecting the call to be from Gaea.

It was Dax. His sweet, husky voice took her breath away and she was unable to say anything for a minute after his hello.  He repeated the word, and she remembered how to speak.

“Hi.”

“Am I bothering you?”

“Of course not. No bothering here. In fact, the opposite of bothering, which would be, um...I don’t know what the word for the opposite would be but you’re doing it. Nope. Not bothering me in the least.”

He chuckled, which made her all smiley and giddy. She say down on the edge of the couch, and crossed her non-hairy leg over the hairy one.

“What do you have planned for tomorrow?” he asked.

“We have the dessert-and-jazz party at the Reunion Tower.”

“That’s tomorrow night.”

“I know, but I need to be there in the afternoon to make sure all the decorations are up and things like that.”

“Right. What time would that happen?”

“I’m not all that certain, but probably around three.”

“Which would mean you would be available if, say, someone wanted to take you to brunch?”

That feeling settled in her stomach again, the one where the butterflies all took off at once and flew in different directions.

“Brunch?”

“Yes. You know, the meal that is not quite lunch and not quite breakfast.”

“Yes, I know. I’ve had brunch before. Once when I was fourteen, we stayed in Florida and we had brunch every day for a week. I ended up overdosing on Belgium waffles and crepes.”

“So, is that a yes?”

“Of course!”

“Good. How about I pick you up at eleven?”

“Pick me up? You don’t have to do that. I’m not at the hotel. I’m at my apartment because I had things to do, and I’m sharing a room at the hotel with this other girl, you met her, Yolande, she has dark hair and wears flip-flops all the time, and anyway, she has all this stuff in the bathroom, which is really okay, but definitely hard to get around, so I decided to come back to my apartment to do all of my girlie stuff...” She exhaled softly. “Too much information, huh?”

“No, not at all. However, I did know you are at your place.”

“You did?”

“I called you, remember?”

“Oh. Yeah. How?”

“On the contact information sheet from the agency.”

“Oh!”

“So I’ll pick you up, if, that is, you tell me where.”

“Oh, okay.”

She gave him her address and midway between her explaining where it was, he interrupted to tell her he already knew. Kallie closed her mouth, afraid she would start babbling on if she opened it even a bit. But then, he said, “See you at eleven,” and she replied, “okay,” and then he hung up.

She leaned her head on the phone for a second, wondering what she’d done in a previous life that could give her this opportunity in the present one. Whatever it was, she was grateful for it. When she replaced the phone on the hook, it was covered with lots of goop from her face and hair. After cleaning the receiver, she rushed back to the bathroom to finish removing her body hair so she could take a shower. It was well past the time she should have washed it off, so her face should be extra radiant. Which was nice, because then it would match how she felt.

* * * *

Gaea remained silent a long time after the waitress made her getaway. She was embarrassed, sure, but not terminally. She just wasn’t certain what to say next. How did one follow up after what she just revealed?

Finally, she looked over at Bas to find he was laughing. His face was kind of scrunched up, but on him, it looked good. Gaea smiled, appreciating the joke, but also a little concerned.  The sharing of her tale had taken a toll. The erotic thrill had dissolved somewhat, but there was a lingering sensation below her waist that made her shift in her seat.

He stirred her up, this man. Something serious. Yes, she’d decided to go with the flow, so to speak, and scratch her proverbial itch. But something else nagged at her, and it was a little voice in the back of her head that said this wasn’t all about sex. And if it was just about sex, then having sex might not be the smartest idea. Having sex might lead to wanting more, and more was what she couldn’t have.

All she had to do was think about the end of the campaign and the potential jobs that lay ahead for her. On the other hand, the distraction of the attraction was rapidly becoming too much to ignore, and that could easily lead to disaster.

“Now, that was a moment I won’t soon forget,” Bas said, wiping the corner of his eyes with his finger tips. “The look on our waitress’ face. I’m willing to bet you another dinner sometime this week that we’ll have another server for the rest of our meal.”

“I won’t take that bet.” She sipped her new drink, careful not to down too much, as she was starving and the liquor would put her on her butt if she weren’t careful. “I think they’re probably all pulling straws to see who has to serve us.”

“You certainly took it all in stride.”

She shrugged. “Not much I can do about telling the truth to the question that was asked. Why freak out?”

“Why, indeed?” He held up his glass. “To indomitability.”

She touched her glass to his and took another sip. “I hope they don’t barter too much. I’m hungry.”

“Me, too.”

They both turned in the direction of the kitchen, but no server appeared, so they settled back to wait.

“That was great, by the way,” he said. “Just the sort of insight I was looking for.”

“You know, the last time I checked, there were a ton of books that detail, and even analyze, women’s sexual fantasies. Couldn’t you just read about them?”