The Quirk (23 page)

“Now, cousin.” She tucked a hand under his arm and moved with him toward the hall. “Don’t throw away a marvelous opportunity just because you’re cross with me. We’ll talk about it when you’ve calmed down. I’m ready to go too. You can drop me off, and the car will take you home.”

Was it going to happen at last? A grope in the car. A brutal rejection. He would have evened the score. He pressed her hand against him with his arm and looked down at her with a smile that he hoped was warmer than he felt. “I’m not really cross. I guess I’m still a bit drunk.”

Outside, cars were lined up at the curb. They walked along them until Germaine found hers, a stately Bentley. The chauffeur was inside, slumped over the wheel. She rapped on the window. The chauffeur straightened with a start and leaped out, fumblingly obsequious with sleep.

“I’ve told you not to sleep in the car. I don’t expect to have to tell you things twice,” Germaine said peevishly.

“But madam–” The man was holding open the door.

“Don’t argue.” Her voice became as cutting as a knife. “I won’t have you sleeping in the car. Sleep at home.” She got in and settled into deep cushions. He sat close enough for their knees to touch. He wanted to go home to Patrice. He wanted to go to bed with Patrice not for sex but for the comfort of his presence. Patrice knew how to minister to his easily bruised ego.

They rode in silence up the avenue and around the Etoile and down the Champs-Elysées. He didn’t know where she lived, so he had no idea how much time they had. If she let him go without making a pass, she would have won all the way down the line. They turned into the avenue Montaigne and drew up next door to Christian Dior. Germaine stirred and sat up.

“Here I am. Pierre will take you wherever you want to go.” She snapped open a little gold mesh bag and bundles of crisp 10,000-franc notes spilled out of it. Several notes fluttered to the floor. They lay at her feet, pale in the light of a street lamp. “Get those for me, will you, darling? I’ve got to give him some money for the morning.”

He saw, as if it were being run on a film, what he was going to do. He reached down and obediently retrieved the bills. She took them and crumpled a couple into her palm and stuffed the rest back into the little bag. He watched her with much interest. She probably didn’t even know how much she had.

“Aren’t you going to ask me in?” he said. Making the first move was another point for her but the only one he intended to concede.

She snapped the bag shut and looked at him. “I generally let the man take the initiative. I must say I find it difficult to keep up with your moods.”

“That’s because I’m a very talented genius. You know, artistic temperament.”

“I’m very much inclined to send you home. Still, you
were
rather fun earlier. Have you decided to be nice again?”

“Like when I was showing you my cock?”

“Really. You’re impossible, but I’m beginning to think you might be rather interesting in bed. Different at least.”

“I doubt that. How can a guy be different when he’s fucking?”

“Perhaps I’ll let you show me. Come in if you want.”

“That’s what I like–being begged. We’re a very passionate pair.”

“I hope you can get it up at least.”

“It’s the other way around, isn’t it? I hope
you
can get it up.”

“I’ve rarely failed.” The chauffeur was standing holding the door open. Germaine slid out in a ripple of fur, and Rod followed her. He found it exciting to treat her as she deserved to be treated. He wondered how far he could push her before she would fight back.

They entered an ornate portal, crossed a court, and mounted a short flight of carpeted stairs. She let them into a dimly lit entry and took his hand and led the way down a wide corridor to an open door. Lights flashed on in a bedroom, and she closed the door behind them.

The white and gold room was wide and high-ceilinged with enormous sprays of flowers everywhere, on the mantle, beside the big bed, on the bureau. She flung her coat and bag onto a chaise lounge. “I’ll slip into something more comfortable, as the saying goes. There’s some champagne there.” She indicated the silver ice bucket on a table against one wall and continued across the room to a bathroom and closed herself in.

Rod could hear water splashing as he opened the bottle and filled a glass. He finished the champagne in a few quick swallows and filled the glass again.

“Are you getting undressed?” she called. “There’s a man’s dressing gown in the closet if you’re modest.”

He went to the chaise lounge and dropped his clothes onto it. His eyes were on the small gold bag. For some reason he wanted to do it when he was naked. He glanced up at the bathroom door and then leaned over and snatched up the bag and opened it. His tense fingers extricated the first bundle of bills they touched. He saw the bank’s pin still in the corner. A bundle of ten. A couple of hundred bucks. He snapped the bag shut and dropped it. Stealing was sexy. His cock swung out and lifted vigorously as he picked up his jacket and shoved the bills into a pocket. She might not miss them immediately, but when she did she’d guess where they’d gone. He let the jacket fall over the bag and ran a hand out along his cock with self-congratulation. His $200 cock.

He retrieved his glass and took up a position in front of the bathroom door, still toying with himself to keep everything in shape for her. He was more befuddled than he had realized. The glass of champagne seemed to have reactivated everything he had drunk all evening. He couldn’t figure out why he thought he’d scored such a great victory over her. He’d taken her money, but she might never know it was gone. Instead of keeping himself all worked up for her, wouldn’t it be more to his purpose to relax and force her to really work for it? An impotent man could drive a hungry lady wild. He dropped his hand to his side, but being naked in this feminine room with a woman nearby getting ready to be taken was enough to keep him operational. He might find a way to take her that would make it an act of revenge. He thought of Patrice and wondered how she’d like a little queer stuff.

He was draining his glass when the door opened and she appeared, wearing a slim negligee, her face pale but gentler without makeup.

She stopped in the doorway. Her expression became fixed as she gave him a thorough inspection. “You Americans,” she said lightly. “You’re all such strapping lads. With a body like that you hardly need talent.”

“Thanks.” He stood his ground and let her approach him. She did so slowly, still inspecting him. When she reached him she put a hand on his erection. It gave a little leap at her touch.

“Heavens. Does it get bigger?”

“That’s about it.”

“And quite sufficient too. You can’t deny you have a hard-on now.”

“No. It’s the genuine article, but you’d be amazed at what did it.”

“Dreaming of Nicole again?”

“Let’s leave her out of this.”

“Gladly, but fancy that delicate little thing having such a stallion. How does–”

He slapped her face, not hard but hard enough to bring tears to her eyes. Better. Hitting her was even sexier than stealing from her. “I told you to leave her out of it. We make love together. I’m not going to make love to you. I’m going to screw you.”

She brushed her cheek with the back of her hand. “I didn’t mean to be offensive,” she said. “I’m sorry. By all means, screw me. That’s what I like, and for as long as possible. This feels as if you could do it beautifully.” She dropped her hand onto him again. The other joined it. “Such a lovely long thing. Come to bed and screw me, darling.”

He started to open her negligee but checked himself. Her urgency was a guide. He looked down at the hands moving over him eagerly, assessingly. “You’re much too well-dressed to go to bed. Go ahead. I’ve never had a girl jerk me off. Let’s see how quickly you can make me come.”

She snatched her hand away. “But, darling, I want you to take me. I want us to be together.”

“You know what a cock feels like inside you. This is different. We’ll watch together.” She started to duck down before him, but he caught her and held her close against his side. “I’ve had plenty of blow jobs. I’m sure you’d enjoy doing it. This is going to be strictly for me.” A hand once more caressed him. “Go on. Like that. All the way to the end. Lovely.” He felt a warm tingle of approaching orgasm and had to keep himself firmly in check in order not to pull her robe off and take her the way she wanted to be taken.

“But it’s such a waste.” Her voice was a moan of frustration. “All this lovely equipment for nothing.”

“Nothing? You’re making me come. Faster. Out there more. Masturbation is like everything else. You’ve got to learn how to do it right. Here. I’ll show you.” He placed his hand on hers and manipulated himself provocatively until he didn’t dare touch himself an instant longer. He was bursting with a sort of gleeful rage. “Take over,” he ordered. “Have you ever felt a harder cock? Imagine what it would be like ripping into you.”

She broke from his restraining arm and tried to get in against him. He held her at arm’s length and released his tensions with a peal of laughter. “God, look at it. I didn’t know it could be so big.” He seized her hands and held them on it and drove it back and forth between them. “That’s great.”

He planted himself with his feet apart and put his hands on his out-thrust hips. “Do it. Make it good. Now. Oh, Christ. Look out or I’ll come all over you.” He let out a cry. She stepped aside still stroking him, and he saw the ejaculation leaping from him, being flung across the room. When it was finished he pulled away from her grip. “Not bad,” he said indifferently. “Have you ever watched a guy come before?”

“Certainly not. The men I’ve known have had better things to do than stand around and make a mess on the floor.”

He laughed and moved in closer and put his mouth on hers. She welcomed it voraciously. While his erection subsided he engaged in what would ordinarily have been preliminaries. It was an exercise in technique, and he set out to make it as tantalizing as he knew how. He put his hands under her robe and caressed her everywhere. She was damp between the thighs. She writhed in close against him. He went on until he could feel that she had completely abandoned herself. Then he pulled back and looked down into a face suffused with craving. “If you’d told me how much you wanted me, maybe I wouldn’t have made you do that.”

“It still feels hard. Quickly. If we–”

He swayed himself against her and made her breath catch. “It may feel hard, but it isn’t. It has to go down before it comes up again. Maybe I’ll let you work on it when I’ve had a drink. Why don’t you tell me you’re wild for me? That might help.”

“Oh, darling. I am. You’re the most thrilling man I’ve known for years. I’m glad we did that. I’ll know what it looks like when you’re coming inside me. Ravishing.”

“If you said things like that more often, I might get to like you.” He broke from her and headed for the ice bucket. He was still holding a glass. He filled it and another for her, which he held out to her. He could see her habit of domination struggling with the desire to be near him. Desire won. She sauntered toward him. She had rearranged her negligee so that it covered her elegantly again. She took the glass and managed to look like the leading lady in a drawing-room comedy as she lifted it to her lips.

“Why do you wear that thing?” he asked.

“Mystery, darling. Any woman past 25 wants to guard a little mystery except under the most favorable circumstances.”

“If you feel that way, you shouldn’t fool around with younger guys. Take it off.”

“No, darling. Not until we–”

“Take it off, I say.” He reached for her and gave the negligee a tug. Something ripped her. Her glass made a small thud on the carpet as she dropped it. He tugged again, and the flimsy garment fell around her feet. She moved in close to him, hiding herself against him. “It’s getting bigger, darling, much bigger,” she reported breathlessly.

“This is ridiculous–waiting around for an erection as if it were a streetcar. It’s late. We’ve both had a lot to drink. I better go.”

“Oh, no, darling. Please. It’s happening. You’ve got to spend the night.” He hadn’t dreamed he could subjugate her so completely. She was as tame and docile as a lamb. His revenge was almost complete.

“Pick up your glass, and we’ll have a nightcap together.” She did as she was told. He refilled her glass and saw why she wanted to keep herself covered. Her breasts were still youthful, and her legs were shapely, but in-between there were strip marks and bulges and a few small folds of crepey skin at the midriff. In spite of her being taller than average, she looked somehow dumpy. But she was a woman, and she wanted him. She would probably get him eventually, but she still hadn’t paid the price she had goaded him into demanding. He put down his glass and held her breasts in the palm of his hands. “Pretty good, considering. There’s nothing wrong with these. Still, you can hardly expect a guy to be consumed with passion unless you know how to get him started.”

“It’s getting hard, darling. I can feel it. It was beautifully hard at the beginning.”

“Sure. I probably would’ve screwed you by now if you hadn’t been such a smart-ass. You can suck it now. That should perk it up.”

“Can’t we go to bed?”

“I’m fine here.” He backed against the edge of the table and watched her obey. Her mouth wasn’t as exciting as Patrice’s, but she knew what she was doing. He didn’t care whether she succeeded, which made it more likely that she would. Wishing for an erection was the best way to kill it. He took a sip of champagne and glanced around the wide white room. He might yet end up in a garret, but it was taking a long time to get there. His eyes lingered on the chaise lounge. Should he relieve her of another neatly pinned bundle. His $400 cock? He looked down at it and the naked woman crouched in front of it and chuckled. “You look so funny doing that. The elegant Germaine Powers, working for a fuck. I think the streetcar’s coming. Yeah, it is. You do that very nicely. I’ll have it that way this time.”