Statistic

It was like deja vu for Oscar. This it was him who was showing up to Cleo’s to make sure she was okay, like Eliza had done for him a few days ago.

He used his key which he was thankful that he had because, he was not sure that Cleo would have opened the door for him. And from the looks of it she would not have.

Cleo was lying on her side facing a wall, and he felt a dark feeling in the pit of his stomach—especially after losing Chloe. 

But then she shifted, and he moved closer to the bed.

“Cleo? It’s me, I used my key…”

Cleo turned around, her body in a state of semi-undress in a thin slip.

“What are you doing here? I thought you would be done with me…” she heaved.

He sat on the edge of the bed.

“I know you were back and no one saw you and I know that you were upset.”

“You mean my depression, and you wanted to make sure I was not a statistic.”

Oscar swallowed.

“I’ve been in love with you Cleo, I don’t wish you any harm. I certainly did not come here expecting to find you dead.”

Cleo touched his thigh.

“I treated you so badly, I am ashamed…”

She started to heave more and then her face morphed back into the face of tears he could see was there before.

He crawled onto the bed, and held her close.

“Cleo, love makes fools of us all.”

She continued to heave and then looked up at him. He wiped a tear from her mouth, and she gasped and kissed him. He had not meant to make her think that he wanted to kiss her—but she kissed him. Her hand  on his thigh again, kneading and moving up his thigh. 

“Cleo…I did not come here to…”

“But I want you to…”

Her hand kneading his crotch made it hard for him

to deny her.

 

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You’ve Changed

You don’t trust me, was the worst thing he could have said to her. Mathilde looked at Cadmus with dark eyes, and he knew that he had said the wrong thing.

When she was younger aside from him making her feel like she was desperate and clingy, every time she questioned how he felt he would say something like you don’t trust me when she asked if there was someone else. There never was that she knew of, but the way he made her feel was not much better—empty and like the person that obviously loved more in their relationship.

He pulled her close to him. 

“I cannot make up for everything, I cannot make the past go away but I promise never to hurt you like that ever again. You are here with me, doesn’t that mean you want this to work? That you want me?”

“I always wanted you…I never have wanted anyone like I wanted you. I have never been the same since you left me…”

“You have changed, but you are still so beautiful inside and outside. No one ever loved me like you do.”

“Cleo?”

“She doesn’t love me like you do.”

He kissed her neck, and Mathilde pulled her hair away from her neck so he could kiss her there without getting her long dark hair in his mouth. The hair she thought hid her from her past, but had not hidden her from anything.

“You’ve changed too,” she said, kissing his neck her hands between his legs and she was not ashamed of letting him know what she wanted…

 

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billie holiday via wikipedia

Another Place

“Are you okay?”

Rafe looked at her when she walked back into the apartment.

She was not okay.

She had gone to Oscar’s to soothe him from his heartache, and instead, they argued about their relationship. Her unexpected jealousy over Cleo which she should have recognized earlier. They eventually ate in silence and embraced. They would be okay, but she had not gone there to fight so she was a bit shaken up.

“I will be,” Eliza looked at her husband with soft eyes, and wrapped her arms about him. “I love you,” she said softly looking into his eyes. When she married him, she remembered that she knew that he was the one that she could look at with certainty and know that she loved him and wanted to be with him and that he was forever for her.

“I love you,” he said, punctuating his sentiment with a kiss.

Their apartment smelled delicious, and she knew that he had made something delicious for them, but the taste of his mouth against hers filled something much more in her. Rafe took her hand, and they went to the bedroom where things escalated rapidly.

“I want to be full of you…” Eliza purred.

“That was exactly what I was intending,” he smiled and she looked at his familiar erection and thought of the pleasure that he gave her when he put it inside of her.

She took his hand and kissed it over and over again. Rafe groaned and he looked at her with gentle eyes.

“You want this,” he made a fist, and she felt herself clench with the ache for it as he did.

It took them awhile, when he penetrated her like that. He did not always even get all the way in, but having his penis inside her was a different sensation than having his fist. Besides, she wanted to be close to him and she loved the way their lovemaking seemed endless when he fisted her. They looked at each other and touched each other in other ways, and after he held her close and kissed her temples asking her if she was okay–was it good for her?

It was always good for her with him.

“Eliza,” he said her name and it sounded thick to her like through a dream.

She had gone to another place…

 

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Now

To anyone looking, they looked like a couple terribly in love all throughout Paris. Lovers in Paris—what a shocker!

Mathilde knew that her expression definitely contributed to that. The way she clung to Cadmus, and the way that he held her to him. Once out of the corner of her eye, she saw a man taking a picture of them by the Seine. At that moment, could he capture the lust in her eyes? The gape of her mouth, as she felt Cadmus hard against her and needing him right then? Cadmus’ dark lust was not on view for the camera, but was for her eyes only.

It was all love for the camera, and behind the scenes too. When they were alone, they smoldered the same way.

The frame of their hotel room felt like fire when they returned to it. Their proximity as they were both so eager to get inside and at each other. His lips would rest on her temple or neck, and she would combust.

His touch was so incendiary.

She needed him, even as she did not know if she trusted him. If she trusted him not to break her heart.

Again.

Before she left, Mathilde was sure that she saw Cleo’s shadow at their door and heard a scratch at the door before the sound of heels walking away dragging a suitcase down the hall.

For now, she was the one he was set on fire, she was the one that he wanted now. He touched her and she felt him like flames. He wanted her like he had never wanted her before, but it was only now. Now was not an infinite period of time. 

It was just now.

He kissed the tip of her spine, and his hand moved up the sides of her ribs until she burned.

She wanted to burn…

 

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Twisted

Eliza went over to Oscar’s apartment, he sat on his couch with just a pair of pants and a t-shirt. Barefoot, he looked toward her walking into the apartment with a slight lift of his head.

“Come in the kitchen with me…” she cajoled. 

They had always liked to cook together. Eliza got all of the things to make a ragu that he really liked so that he would only have to cut things up if he was not in the mood for more.

Ever since Cleo went to Paris, he had been sullen and unresponsive. Eliza had not suspected that he had been that in love with Cleo—she thought he was more invested in Sally if anyone. Especially since she knew that Sally was still around smelling after him…

Oscar cut an onion beside her, and his eyes did not tear up. Eliza’s face streamed with tears, between the onions and being so close to Oscar and not knowing what to do…

His shoulder grazed hers, and she burned from head to toe from the touch of him but she continued to cry and cut her onions. Then he grazed her again and she knew it was not an accident, but she continued to cut the onion like it was a meditation.

“Thank you,” Oscar said quietly, and she still did not say a thing because she did not know what she should say. She was there for him because she cared for him, but even if she cared for him…she was still stuck on what she should say to him.

“You know, I keep falling for the wrong women,” he said under his breath.

“I am not Cleo!” she snapped, and they looked at each other at the same time. She felt the steam release from her that she did not even know was there. 

She was not Cleo, she did not understand what he liked about Cleo anyway. At that moment, when he said that, she became so enraged. Jealousy burst around her like balloons, and she looked at him helplessly.

Oscar stopped cutting the onion and held her. The scent of onion and tears filled her mouth.

 

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Remembrance

Mathilde sat cross-legged on the edge of the bed. The tears had cooled on her face, because she had finally stopped crying. She had even cried when they made love, which was the way that Cadmus tried to say sorry to her—with his body.

Had she ever really fooled anyone at that point, as many times as she had transformed herself? She could see her face in the mirror, and she looked far removed from herself, but if someone really knew her they would know her body and how could she have supposed that he would not have remembered her body?
She assumed that he had not remembered her.

“I remembered you after, I remembered not being with you and missing the way that you were always there for me, but that I was not ready for it. By the time I met Cleo I was better, but not completely–she can tell you about that,” he said, pulling her close to him after they made love. After he had confronted her, and let her know that she was not hiding anything from him.

No matter how much she had run away from her life, she had not even run even half away from anything because she brought her same issues with her. As Cadmus kissed the slope of her neck, she could feel he wanted her again, and she could not say no. For him to be after her was so different than before—when she was always so desperate for him. He moved against her backside, and she moved against him in return. Their gnawing hunger for each other rampant…

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Cougar

Cleo was considered a cougar in her circles, Cadmus was younger than her but nothing that would make her a cougar by any means. If anything he was the one that was more sophisticated than she was. 

Relationship wise.

Her job was just as substantial as his and she made a decent amount of money, but as far as the relationship went he was the one that showed her things. She was a little older, but he made her feel delicate and vulnerable. He entered her body with so many different things that required her trust and patience, and always made her call out his name loudly because she wasn’t ready for the pleasure that he provided her. He made her look in his eyes when she rode his fist, and there was nothing that had ever been more intimate than that to her.

But to have him walk out of her hotel room knowing she was livid, and not touch her. Just followed her around the room trying to make eye contact—he wanted to know that she was okay, but she was not going to give him her eyes. She did not want him to see what she was feeling, he was not privileged to get to see her anymore.

“Please go,” she had said, the heat of him on her back from him following her about the room like paparazzi. She threw up her hands like he was an offensive flash. She heard the door close, and the tears started in her throat. Fearful she would choke to death, she threw herself across the bed as if to eject the tears and she screamed silently.

He was gone, even if she had asked him to go…he was gone and she was not sure that this time he would come back. She had never been afraid to tell him to go before because she knew that he would come back. But this time, with Mathilde, her eyes tightened as she thought about the other woman. With Mathilde, she was not sure he was going to come back this time.

She could not close her mouth…

 

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Engulfed

Cadmus unzipped the back of her dress, and his hand lingered at the small of her back. Mathilde felt his hand there like a wanted weight and it soothed her. He slipped the dress down over her shoulders.

“What did you say to her, what happened?” she asked him because she needed to know. He had been in Cleo’s hotel room, and she needed to know what he had said to her.

What had happened in her room.

“Cleo is mad at me, she is mad at me what else is new?” Cadmus sighed, and pulled her dress down more roughly over her shoulders.

Mathilde shrugged roughly, matching his rough pulling down of her dress.

“How long were you with her? As a couple?”

He caressed his shoulders, and kissed her neck.

“On and off for several years…I just started sleeping with her again, but then I saw you…” He caressed the small of her back, as she stepped out of the dress.

“I have a question for you,” he said. 

Mathilde stiffened.

“What?”

“When were you going to tell me?”

His hand lingered over her hip, and she bit her lip.

“What?” she repeated, a bit indignant this time.

He spun her around like a carousel, and she looked at him. His face was so close to hers, it looked like a caricature.

“Do you think I don’t remember your body? Do you think that all men are such dogs that they do not remember? I remember this mole Zara, I remember…”

Mathilde looked at him with wide eyes.

“Do you want a medal for remembering?” she said, naked and indignant. “I remember a lot too…”

“I know,” he said, his hand on both of her hips and the way he looked at her made her burn with desire and she hated him for that. Why did he always do that? Her burning in this hotel room, and Cleo burning in another? “I remember I did not treat you the best Zara…I remember…I am going to spend the rest of my life making it up to you…”
He bent before her and kissed her just where she was burning, and she was engulfed.

 

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Lockdown

Cleo could not keep her eyes off of Mathilde. Usually it was Cadmus that had her undivided attention — if he was in the room, she could not notice anything else but Mathilde was riveting. She could see why he wanted her, and it made her hurt all the more. She was going to need an emotional lockdown in the hotel room after this, so she could process her thoughts.

For now, she sat at the table watching the other woman and sipping her wine. Cadmus of course had selected something amazing for them to drink.

When she got to the bar, they were fucking as much as two people can fuck without actually fucking in public. They kept touching around each other like their hands were butterflies, and looking at each other awed expressions like they could not believe that the other person was with them. When she walked up to them they, both looked at her with dazed expressions like she was an unexpected cloud on a sunny day.

Mathilde was polite to her, but that was another thing about her. She was cosmopolitan and elegant, but there was a lot of reserve. Cleo caught herself when she almost touched her hand, while she was talking but she did not think that that was something that she should do. Cadmus barely looked at her, and when he did it was fleeting.

It was after when he went to her hotel room, where she had planned her lockdown that he looked at her. She looked at him confused because she was not sure why he was there.

“Where is Mathilde?” she asked, after she let him in and wrapped her arms about herself. She could feel the heat of his body, and saw him follow her out of the corner of her eye in the mirror.

“In our hotel room Cleo, you’ve seen us — I wanted you to see that this was not a fling.”

Cleo turned and looked at him.

“I came and I saw Cad–ironic no?”

He looked at her with his lips in a downward curve.

“Cleo…”

“I don’t need your words Cad, I don’t need your words!”

She looked at him with tears in her eyes, and her emotional lockdown began even though she was not alone.

 

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Foreign Places

Cadmus out of bed was even more intoxicating than he was in bed. She had memorized his scent after all of these years, sitting close beside him at the bar where he had picked her up.

Again.

Returning to the scene of the crime, even the jaded bartender was moved because it was obvious that something was between them. She touched his face as if she was fussing with him—but there was nothing to fuss with. He did the same to her, they could not stop fussing with their air, their auras.

He raised his glass of wine to her lips, and the graze of the glass against her lips was electric. But before she could sip, he pulled the glass away.

Mathilde smiled, but her smile was wan. It was hard to feel all of this again for him. And remember everything she had thought she had risen above.

There was no rising above any of it.

He placed his hand on her knee, and she fussed with nothing. Tugging at his tie, the skin of his throat warm and she was submerged in her thoughts of what was this? 

He placed his glass to her lips again, and the electricity returned at her lips between her legs. Mathilde for the first time would not run, she was in Paris with this man and she was not going to run away.

A woman walked into the bar, and up to the both of them. Cadmus looked cautious.

Cleo, this was the woman he had told her about that was in New York.

New York was foreign to Mathilde now, the only thing she knew was Cadmus beside her and this woman who stood beside them.

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