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Severine held the phone in her hand, between her breasts. She had hoped to fly into New York, and see Rafe. She knew that it was ridiculous for her to believe that Rafe’s new relationship status was going to change anything between the two of them, but she could not help it.
There was a disconnect between her heart and her body, she knew in her head that there was probably still not going to be anything more. But her body had deeper cravings and forced her to desire more, to want what she wanted in the first place when she started with him.
The insatiable craving that she had for him now, was not based on their early encounters. She felt that maybe Rafe was right, and she should have known that there was something seriously flawed with their relationship. The odd times that he would choose to see her. He would come to her hotel when she was in New York, in the morning. The first time that they made love, he came nearly at the crack of dawn. She had not had time to put her contacts in, so she went to the door with her thick cat’s eyes frames. Bare without makeup and without a bra, unbrushed teeth, she greeted him.
He grabbed her breast not knowing she was premenstrual, and sensitive there. She groaned, he must have thought that that was her pleasure. Severine was torn because she wanted to be with him, they had talked about it…but she had wanted to look better than this. To feel better than this.
When he pressed her to the door of her closed hotel room, she kissed him and allowed tongue even though she had morning breath. The way that he grabbed her, she was not even sure he noticed because he wanted to have sex so much.
Her glasses fogged up, and they knocked teeth more than a few times with labored kissing If she had not wanted him, she would have felt helpless. Rafe was directing how everything was going, she went along with him. She wanted him, and she wanted what he wanted. He placed his hands roughly wherever he wanted on her body, and arranged her in the same way.
The sex was very orchestrated and quick. There was a feeling of pleasure in her for what had happened, more than there was pleasure while it was happening. When he left and she was in the shower, the water burned where he touched her because she remembered he had been there. The act had been so much more important to her than the sensation. Compared to everything that had happened to them since, she could say that it had been pretty bad sex that time.
But now, phone between her breasts, her clitoris throbbing just from what he said to her on the phone.
“When are you coming back to New York now that this flight was cancelled?” he asked her.
“Soon,” she choked thinking too much about the throbbing between her legs.
Rafe did not have to be near her now to give her pleasure.
Phone between her breasts, she closed her eyes. Now would have been a good time to talk to Oscar, but he was in Shanghai. All the men around her had secrets. Though finally she was hoping that Rafe’s secrets were open, as open as his relationship was going to be…

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rumpled sheets via flickr.com

Oscar adored Polly’s naked scent, the scent of her warmth as he looked at her soft curves over the bubbles of the glass of champagne she held. She smiled at him, and he touched the curve of her hip. He savored the sweetness of champagne on his tongue, the bubbles popping there and listened to the soft singsong of her voice as she looked up at him, almost splashing champagne on him. He aimlessly caressed her hip again, his hand slipping down a bit more than it should have. They had both been drinking, so he figured she might let it go.
She had taken off her stilettos which he always wondered how she always floated so gracefully above them, and never tottered. But she had taken them off, and rubbed each foot as she did.
His intuition told him he should be careful with a barefoot woman before him. Made him think of the last time he was at an art opening in Shanghai with a woman, the last time a beautiful barefoot woman was standing in front of him…
Polly was wearing a qipao she found in a local vintage store. It looked amazing on her, everything looked amazing on her and he found himself unable to look without touching her. She did not seem to mind, and even more she had a tendency to move into his touch that made him want to touch her in a bolder way each time.
His conversation on Skype with Eliza, her declaring that she now wanted an open relationship with Rafe and that she wanted to see him left him torn. Severine was not really as involved with him as she had been, because she felt that this open relationship meant that she would have a chance with Rafe and that was all she really wanted.
Oscar had never had a desire to be in open relationship, and even as much as he loved Eliza, it was hard for him to not still desire a woman who might want to be with just him.
Polly soft and warm in appearance and heart in front of him, was something that made him feel good in the moment. He felt something he had not felt for a long time, or at least something he had not allowed himself to feel for a long time.
He wanted Polly.
When he first met her he wanted her, but her rebuff made him think it was not the right thing. She clearly did not want to get any closer to him, and he felt it was the right thing since they were going to be working together.
But her glossy beauty was never lost on him, her hair that looked like she brushed it to the finest shine. Her voice was like honey, so sweet even when she ignored him. She talked to him until now only when she had to but her voice was honey, so sweet and made him do whatever she asked for. Her scent was amazing, the scent was like a fruit or flower that could be eaten. Her skin was softer than a cloud, he was sure and he could still taste strands of her perfumed hair from when she fell asleep in the car beside him heading to the airport.
Oscar was aroused just thinking about her, glad she was a bit tipsy because she would not notice how he felt.
“It was a good idea to come to this party and relax, but I guess you had to come when there are so many pictures of you on the walls of the gallery!” Polly declared.
“It is only two!” he protested looking into her eyes that looked up into his. “And if Fiona invited me, I had to come.”
Polly grinned at him, and raised her glass almost above her head to toast him.
It was as if she dangled that fruit or flower she smelled like to his mouth. He wanted to take a bite desperately, but he did not want to start something with her since they worked together, since they were both a bit inebriated and mostly because he did not trust his desire anymore.
But he wanted her, he wanted her so much he wanted to drag her by her glossy hair out of the gallery and fuck her in the closest corner, pulling apart her qipao and having his way with her until there were only remnants of her glossy beauty that was before him now.
He let his glass of champagne toast hers, and he spilled some on her. The scent of her champagne drenched, was almost more than he could bear.
But he was going to bear it, he was not going to let things get out of hand even though Polly was attacking his senses with all her glossiness.

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qipao via wikimedia

His undone bowtie under her foot, Severine observed her naked long-limbed reflection in the mirror.
The irony was on the way to the hotel, even the traffic signs were conflcting: STOP and YIELD. But she knew she was not going to stop, that she was going to yield to Rafe.
She sang a French lullaby to herself to stop her heart from racing as it had been from the moment she slipped on her thigh highs. Fingered their lacy tops the way she wanted Rafe to touch her where she felt like satin, not lace.
The traffic signs and lights merged into one, a color-filled blur…everything was a blur as she headed up to the hotel room–not the one she was sharing with Oscar, but the one that Rafe gotten for them.
She walked into the room, he was not there. Then she heard the door slam, and before she could turn around she was grabbed from behind. Her struggle reminded her of when she studied ballet. Up in the air, her legs pedaled a resistance she did not really
feel.
Before she could open her mouth, his hand covered it. His scent was everywhere, stained the air as her legs their continued
resistance she did not really desire, but she waged it anyway.
His kiss on her neck quieted her. Her legs back down on the ground, Severine pressed into the front of him. Rafe’s mouth did not leave her neck as he sought the satiny bit of her, she craved for him to touch. She closed her eyes and everything happened to her, he happened to her.
Again.
Her eyes on her figure again in the mirror, she picked up his bowtie and took in his scent.
In this moment he was hers again, though she felt as disposable as one of the characters created by the playwright in The Twilight Zone who would conjure and dispose
of his characters at will.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked her.
Severine studied him, her head cocked.
“The traffic signs on the way here said stop and yield…I yielded…”

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photo via google images

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When Eliza was younger, she used to spend holidays with her parents in their holiday home. House No. 9 was sold as a luxury accommodation, but ended up being the simple quarters for the help. Her parents did not mind though, and they made it homey if not luxurious in their own way. Floors to ceiling covered with books to begin with, and in every nook and cranny of the house.
It was easy for Fiona to stay there, lost in novels. But when she met Rafe whose parents owned a house further away, she would often sneak out barefoot to meet him. She was in college then, and her parents were very liberal about sex, but she still did not want them to know that she was out all night.
Tomorrow was her flight back to New York which, Fiona had not been at all upset about when she told her. Eliza was sad because she knew she was part of the reason why Fiona did not want to come back to New York.
However at this moment, she was not concerned as much as she would be when she was back in New York. She crept out like she did from house No. 9, but this time she was seeking Oscar.
Lust kept her awake. She had not eaten and barely slept since the reception, unable to focus on anything but having Oscar skin to skin, mouth to mouth…inside her…She was in the lobby of the building before she even remembered to put on her shoes. All she had thrown on was a trench coat and nothing else.
Shanghai was gorgeous at night, she thought in the taxi her body heavy with erotic anticipation against the backseat. Whenever she thought of the city, she would think of Oscar. The same as with Paris. She would always connect them with him. Right then she especially thought of him, as she felt the silkiness of her thighs brush her engorged labia. She did not want to put her hands there, because nothing would feel like Oscar there. Her body though rebelled against her resistance.
Oscar waited for her in the lobby of his hotel, which made her smile. It was some ungodly hour of the morning, when he took her hand she felt contractions between her legs. She had never had this kind of desire for a man before, and it was something that she could barely handle.
In the elevator, his hands were in her hair and her lips were pressed to his chest. He was barely touching her, and she was half ready to come.
When they walked into his apartment, she took off her coat immediately, but did not make a move toward him. She did not want to rush into anything, but she wanted him to know that she was ready for anything, at any time. That she was at his disposal even though her desire was at the brim.
Oscar put his arm around her, and she buried her face in the crispness of his shirt. He stroked his fingers over the side of her face, and she leaned into him even more. Their silence was heavy. All she thought about was she was returning to New York and leaving him an insane amount of miles away.
“Your flight is tomorrow,” he stated softly and she nodded into his chest.
She did not want to ask any questions because they would all lead to answers she knew already.
They stood like that for awhile before her fingers slipped into the opening between the buttons of his shirt. His lips touched her temple with tenderness. The throbbing between her legs murmured deeper and deeper desire, but she had no intention of rushing.
Every gesture that followed was like a ballet. Kisses like a soft moment when the music slows between partners. Her delicate movement around him almost as a secret, his hands and mouth supporting every gesture. Finally, he lifted her and she threw her head back, their game of seduction over.
The end of their performance found them curled on his sheets, bare, pensive.
It killed her not to know when they would be together like this again, but she did not react now. More quiet declarations of love were made when they faced each other, but she could not bear the words spoken now. Spoken now to be left hanging in New York.
When she was on the airplane, her heart raced on its taxi as they lifted, before she fell back in her seat.
Fiona beside her.
“You know it was really awful of me to want you to tell everyone I was not coming back. It is even more awful of me to want to not see your wedding. You are Rafe’s and my sister.” Fiona squeezed Eliza’s hand, and Eliza bit her trembling lip. Fortunately, no tears came to her eyes. She understood very well now why Fiona had been so blasé, as she pressed her head to the cool window of the airplane and resigned to her fate.

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Eliza considered Fiona to be the most sophisticated person she had ever met. After they met Oscar and revisited Fiona’s declaration of love, Fiona never repeated what she said that night.
She’d told Fiona she loved her, and Fiona said not the way she loved Oscar in a drunken haze.
The thought never occurred to Eliza. When she met him, she went with him because she felt pressure. The urge to be perfect, which she was not. She had not expected to meet him in Paris, and Shanghai proved that she had far deeper emotions than she had suspected.
Fiona never mentioned it again, and Eliza tried not to think about it.
So of course it became all she thought about.
The gallery was decorated gloriously for the exhibition, there was flowing liquor as per usual. Fiona schmoozed with the inebriated and wealthy clientele who could buy whatever they saw.
Eliza wandered on her own, letting Fiona work. She always looked at Fiona’s work with admiration, but now she saw things that she had never seen before.
She paused by a ubiquitous untitled photograph in which Fiona looked away from the camera, but her body was completely exposed. Eliza had never acknowledged the sexuality in the photos. Fiona was beautiful, and there were a myriad of men and women around her. No one Fiona ever seemed attached to.
Until she made her declaration a few days ago.
“What do you see?’
Eliza was afraid to turn around and look at Oscar. This was the abandoned corner leading to the stairs that she had thought about in the bar in the other night because they could not have sex. She imagined they could tonight in a stairwell like this. The sound of his voice, and the closeness of his body made her wet.
“I see so much more in her photographs than I did…This particular series has a rawness to it…”
Eliza faced him and the raw desire on his face. She considered what would happen if she put her hand on the door to the stairs. The possibilities she would expose with that simple gesture. She faced the photograph again, Fiona’s body open but tight with unexplored desire.
Eliza wanted to explore.
His hand covered hers on the doorknob when she touched it, and moving as one they opened the door.
The darkness and coolness of the stairwell evaporated, as their bodies pressed together. Their nearness felt like sex. Every part of him that touched her, even his suit jacket and tie sent a shock between her legs. She closed her eyes with longing, realizing fantasy is always better than the reality. They could not push it any further here.
“Fiona said…” She said suddenly and stopped. She did not want to go on because if she said the rest to him, she would be in love with him and she could not commit to that.
Her committment was with Rafe.
She thought about it more now that she was thinking so much about loving Oscar. The decision to marry Rafe had not been one she had had to think about. She had known.
Now she knew something else.
“What?” Oscar asked.
His breathing was labored. She knew that being so close to each other was not the way she should be with him, considering what she was about to say.
“She said I loved you.”
“Do you?”
Eliza buried her face in her hands.
“I’m engaged.”
“Do you?”
She studied his face through the cage of her fingers, considered what her answer would mean and how it would change things.
His eyes paralleled hers.
“Do you love anyone?” he questioned her with almost scorn.
She pounded at his chest, the soft warmth she felt flared up into an intense heat as she pounded and he stood impassive.
“How could I love you!” she spat, her hands hot from pounding his chest and she stopped to cover her damp face with them.
“The same way I could love you.”
She peeked at him through her splayed fingers and considered what he said.
Their indirect confessions were enough. Oscar took her hands and kissed them. Kissed her tremoring mouth, and her cheek that pulsed with emotion.
He loved her. She cared less about what a mess she was, damp made up face in a stairwell where she still could not have sex with him.
He loved her.
That was the brightest picture in her mind, brighter than any of Fiona’s photographs that night even the one in the sun…

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photo courtesy of wiki commons