Resist (12 page)

Chapter 10

Vie

B
efore I could get used to what transpired between Blaine and me that Saturday night, he began to make preparations for the Labor Day weekend, officially celebrating the end of summertime. Lazy days between us spent in each other’s company—when we weren’t feverishly pawing each other like a couple of lust struck teenagers—passed quickly and soon it was time to leave for the Hamptons.

Although we would be staying at the same estate with Zed, Xavier, and Brigitte, we didn’t bother to travel together. In fact, I didn’t learn they’d been in Southampton a whole three days before we arrived until we were in a luxurious Town Car on the way to the estate. The driver had picked us up from the airport.

“I had to get the dailies to David and Jamie. They would have flipped if I hadn’t delivered on time and in case you’ve forgotten, I’ve been more into you than anything this past week and half. Can you forgive me?” Blaine gazed at me with a complete and utter puppy dog look that melted the icicles encasing my heart.

“Of course. It’s just . . . they’ve had a chance to pick the best bedrooms and we’re left with the scraps,” I murmured before he grabbed me by the waist and held me near him.

“Babe, I’m the oldest. Zavi and Zed both know better than to take my room. Why would something like that worry you when you know I always get what I want?” Blaine wondered out loud in a calm voice.

Lesson number one: Don’t ever touch Blaine—he always initiated everything, even a gentle caress.

I wouldn’t even run my fingers through his hair unless I was already in his arms. He could turn completely cold and since I wasn’t exactly the warm and bubbly type, I knew my
kind
of people. Of course if he wanted to snuggle, whether I was in the mood or not, we did it.

Lesson number two: He made all the rules and I simply followed his lead.

Although I could formally claim to suffer from genophobia, Blaine had fucked it clear out of me. There was nothing between us that was forbidden if he was in the mood for rule breaking and I learned that all to quickly.

On the third day of my period, he surprised me in the shower and fucked me until my insides hurt. When he pulled out, I gushed blood but thank God for running water in the shower. He quickly soaped, rinsed himself off and got out before I was finished shampooing my hair.

Lesson number three: Do as I was told or face the consequences.

Blaine didn’t want kids. In fact he hated the little bastards and failed to turn into a complete softy when he saw a baby. I was on the fence about the whole idea of children so he made the decision for both of us. He scheduled an appointment with a gynecologist he got from Jamie—the female Meridian studio exec we had dinner with at The Polo Lounge—and had me fitted for a non-hormonal IUD.

I almost didn’t make the appointment, tempted to back out but if I didn’t get it fitted while I was on my period then I would have to wait until the following month. We would have to use condoms until then and Blaine almost went ballistic over the phone.

That was completely unacceptable to him and he told me as much coldly and succinctly without a care to how I felt about the situation. I made my appointment, despite it being in West L.A. and leaving with only an hour to spare in Southern California traffic, which was unreal and
worse
 than Bay Area traffic up north.

Doctor Greenberg fitted me for my IUD the same day, gave me a bunch of pamphlets to review and sent me on my way. I was home by six p.m., just fifteen minutes before Blaine walked through the door that day.

I was intelligent, and had graduated from one of the top universities in the world, but so did my lover and he outsmarted me every time because I couldn’t see straight when it came to him. He wasn’t smarter than me—in fact, our IQs were only singular numbers apart with mine being slightly higher than his—much to his chagrin.

What the fuck did Intelligent Quotient matter when he had a dick, I had a vagina and he used both our genitals like they were his own personal arsenal of weapons? I’d begun to question exactly whom I belonged to: Blaine or me?

“Why are you so quiet?” he whispered into my ear, shattering me from my contemplation.

“No reason. I don’t want to share our most intimate moments with the driver, that’s all.”

Blaine’s hands began to caress my scalp before his lips kissed my temple. “Still so shy. I wonder if you followed my directions when we were at the airport? I sincerely hope you did. I wouldn’t want to have to punish you on the first night of our vacation.”

My heart thundered in my chest and I swallowed before I replied, “Yes, I followed your orders—sorry, directions—down to the letter.”

“Was that a Freudian slip?” It was more of a statement than a question. “Not that it matters but I don’t give orders, sweetheart. You can follow my rules or you can go but you always have a choice—don’t ever forget it.”

“I’m confused. What do you mean I can go?”

“I don’t have a wedding band on your finger, Victoire.” He never called me by my full first name and just hearing it run off his tongue sent a sudden chill down my neck and shoulders. “I meant you have money—our joint business checking account. You don’t have to stay with me. You can find a place of your own and we’ll deal with one another in a business capacity only.”

Tears pricked my eyes but I refused to let them fall. “You mean . . . you could just forget about me—like that?”

“I didn’t say that. ’Course I couldn’t, honey. I would be at your place every chance I got but whether or not you would allow me inside . . . well, that would be your choice, not mine.”

Now it was my turn to smile sarcastically. “I do believe you’re implying a certain message with a double entendre, Blaine.”

“Maybe I am and maybe I’m not. However, you would have to suffer the consequences when I left without giving you a cuddle, kind word or a kiss on the lips. I don’t
do
intimacy with casual lovers.”

I wanted to respond to his off-handed comment but before I could think of anything to say, we’d arrived at the gorgeous estate in Southampton.

The gated home, less than a half a mile from the beach, was indeed gorgeous. Built in 1996, it was on one point nine acres of land while the home itself was almost eleven thousand square feet. It had seven bedrooms, eight and half baths with formal living rooms, dining rooms and lots of outdoor space. Surrounded by lush trees in bloom, the property maintained its utmost privacy from neighbors. We could sunbathe in the nude and no one outside of the property would know.

I looked around in awe as Blaine gave me a full tour and told me about the history of the estate and how his parents had built the place from the ground up. My jaw almost hit the floor when he told me the place was worth almost fifteen million dollars.

“My God. Just this place alone and none of you use it year round?” I questioned in complete and utter awe.

“Well, both parents come from money so it’s not like they can’t afford to maintain all their properties. My mother pretty much owns this place and Dad owns the one in Martha’s Vineyard. You see, everything is equal with my parents. Almost to the point where my father has been mostly emasculated by my dear, sweet mother.” The irony in his voice was not lost upon me as we walked side-by-side up the winding staircase to a bedroom that was next to the master suite.

He pointed towards it casually. “Where my parents sleep. That suite is off limits. Mine is almost as big and not quite as opulent but it is more than adequate, I can reassure you.”

He opened the double doors to his bedroom suite. Although most of the downstairs rooms were done in colors that had names like peanut butter, harmonic tan, and crème brulee, his room was completely dark and masculine.

The walls were slate blue with heavy wood furniture including a California King bed with black sheets, pillows, skirt and comforter; an armoire made from solid oak that stored a state-of-the-art flat screen television, and a large walk-in closet, which led directly to the bathroom. There was a separate shower and an old fashioned, claw foot bathtub next to the large stall that could easily accommodate two people.

The whole place had recently been dusted off and it sparkled in all its cleanliness and bore the tidy signature of Blaine.

Our bags had already been deposited in the room and after I finished a quick exploration, I realized Blaine hadn’t followed me. He was standing near the French doors, which had the perfect view of the back yard, where a large pool, separate Jacuzzi, tasteful, elegant pool furniture and a gazebo were all situated though none of it looked crowded.

There was an area to the side where a built in barbeque pit replete with a stereo system and the smell of cooking food wafted straight up to us the moment he opened the double doors and stepped out onto the balcony.

“What the
hell
is she doing here?” Blaine questioned under his breath.

“Who?” I inquired as I walked towards him yet stopped several feet away the moment I saw his hands flexing into fists over and over again.

“Nothing, no one.” He strode back into the bedroom and closed the French doors. “Go put on a swimsuit. We’re going downstairs to mingle with everyone.”

I nodded silently and wandered over to my luggage. I hoped I had brought a swimsuit that would cover up Blaine’s love bruises—at least until they healed.

Oh, and I learned another lesson.

Lesson number four: Don’t ever question Blaine about his past.

If he wanted me to know, he would tell me in his own time but some part of me didn’t want to find out. I feared a man in his line of work had a lot of skeletons to hide over the years. If they were all suddenly exposed to the light of day, it might just tip him over the edge but I would definitely be left insane behind them.

In the end, it just wasn’t worth the aggravation or the knowing.

Sometimes, ignorance
is
indeed utter and peaceful bliss.

“Y
ou must be the gorgeous Victoire I’ve heard so much about over the last two days from Zavi and Zed?”

I still wore a modest cover up over the one-piece bathing suit I’d chosen because I had a huge hickey—courtesy of Blaine—right below my left rib and if I’d worn a bikini, it would have been put on display.

“Yes, I am,” I replied to the gorgeous woman who smiled back at me.

She was older than me but not by more than a couple years at the most and she had the most gorgeous skin. An olive complexion so dark, it almost bordered on a rich tan that was completely natural and definitely
not
acquired by the sun. Hazel-green eyes complimented a beautiful face with a pert nose, full lips and high cheekbones. Her hair was bone straight, as if she’d flat ironed it—from the curling tendrils near her temple, the smart look she nailed was not completely natural.

Of course she would be in a bikini to show off a gorgeous figure. Not so thin, a harsh wind would blow her away, she actually had some meat on her bones. Though we were the same height, she was a good twenty pounds heavier than me but it complimented her shape giving her the perfect hour-glass figure, slim arms and thighs but they were fleshed out and real, not my Victoria’s Secret catalogue model thin that oftentimes disgusted me.