“Madame,” Aimee said, tapping against the hardwood floors with her heels as she continued to speak in her airy French dialect. “There is more for you to sign.”
Miquela turned away from the panel of windows overlooking the river.Nice ships.Yachting was a pleasure back on the Mediterranean, but Miquela never heard about it much in her new corner of America. Yet there was a marina right there, begging her to rent a vessel until she found one to buy. Didn’t someone lose their fortune? Perhaps they were looking to sell.
She plucked the pen out of her assistant’s hand and signed a stack of dotted lines. “You need to speak English,” Miquela told her for the fifth time since landing in America. “If you want to be taken seriously here, you need to speak the local language. Which is a sweet bastardization all on its own.” Miquela grinned at her. I lived in London for a good many years. I know all about bastardized accents.Shit, Miquela couldn’t even tell someone what her mother tongue was. She grew up speaking Spanish at home, French at school, and learned English by the end of elementary school. Her Italian could be spotty, but that was only because she picked it all up by ear from living in Monaco and vacationing in Italy for extended periods. Once a woman knew Spanish and French, the other Romance languages fell into place.
Sheepish Aimee took the papers back. “Je suis désolée, Madame.” She caught herself. “I mean… I am sorry. Very sorry.”Poor girl’s accent was so thick that she would have everyone lining up to sleep with her, and have no idea what to do with any of them. Miquela didn’t dare tell her that. “I will only speak English when I am in America.Oui.”
“It will be good practice.” Aimee could take notes in English like any other pro, but her speech left much to be desired. If Miquela had more time in her day, she would help her practice. As it was, Aimee’s best bet was to be left to make local friends. “Is there anything else?” Half the furniture still wasn’t there, but Miquela knew it would be an all-day process. She had bought pieces from here, pieces from there… some were even being imported from her residence in Monaco so she could have those familiar comforts. She may only be spending a week or so a month in America, but a woman needed what she could get.
“Only one or two things.” Aimee left the papers on the dining table and picked up a box from a chair. “I found these things in the bedroom when I was cleaning it for the movers. Sorry if it was not something I should have bothered, but you may want to go through them.”
“Very well.”
“May I take a break?”
“Certainly. You’ve earned it. Take an hour. The next set of movers isn’t due until then.”
Grinning, Aimee snatched her purse off another chair and announced she was going to the quaint coffee shop downstairs. Miquela was grateful to have some privacy for the first time in a few hours. Even a woman who grew up in the densely populated high-rise country of Monaco valued her privacy.
She turned her attention back to the river. Clouds rolled in. Dark, graying clouds that announced the coming of rain. The weekend forecast called for chilly rainfall. The perfect ambiance for staying home and…
And curling up with a woman, of course.
Miquela sighed. She thought about texting Aimee and asking her to bring some coffee when she returned. It would be nice to curl up in bed for a spell. Most of her work didn’t start until Monday. Her weekend was fairly free if she budgeted her time well.
Where to go? There were many sights to see, many things to do, but none of them interested her. The only practical thing she could think of was taking a tour of the marina and inquiring about a vessel. That would amuse her for a while. It would not fix the problem of an empty bed when she returned home.
She was in a new world. Many beautiful women awaited her touch, her kiss, her manner of lovemaking that they either dreaded or died for. Yet the more Miquela stood there and thought about sex, the more her mind traveled back to the woman she paid to share it with.
June had been an exceptional woman. Not just as a professional, but as awoman. Rare enough to find someone like her who actually enjoyed her profession. Finding one who was all over Miquela?So many pretend to be attracted to women to get paid.June’s sexuality was as opaque as the curtains around her bed.Nothing left to the imagination.She either found her clients attractive or she didn’t. Gender might not have anything to do with it.
But then there was what Miquela liked in the bedroom…
“I’m not afraid.”That line had surprised her. Could June see it in Miquela’s eyes? Her past experiences with women who were in over their heads? Miquela rarely had a bad time in the love department, but almost every woman was fleeting. Transient. Another beautiful lady for her to hopefully pleasure. June had been pleasured. Thoroughly. The way she wailed as Miquela took her, fucked her into the depths of her own bed… I haven’t felt a woman like that in way too long. It must have been true,because Miquela had been thinking about June off and on all week.
She had her girlfriends (of the night) all over the world. Women she specifically sought out when she went to those cities, assuming they were available. There was Tay in Thailand, who charged by the ten-minute interval because she was that efficient (and good.) Hana in Japan, who had the lightest touch and the most natural look. Svetlana in Moscow, or St. Petersburg, if Miquela called ahead of time. That woman was one of the only ones who could outdrink Miquela and always knew the best jokes for her to take back to her business dinners. Cathy in London had been working out of her own boudoir for decades. She was twenty years older than Miquela and still sprier than the other women she thought about.
Theresa in Rio de Janeiro. Serene in Los Angeles and Las Vegas. Thalia in Miami. Celeste in Paris, and Hilda in Berlin. There used to be an Agnes in Stockholm and Oslo, but she retired to get married.A shame. Miquela had really liked her. Not enough to marry her instead, but a shame.
All those women had one thing in common: they were not intimidated by her. Not by her background, her dominant personality, or her body. They all had their own ways of interacting with her, but at the end of the day, she was able to leave the bedroom and get on with her life. Miquela only thought about them when she was making travel plans and debating how much time she would have for a roll with a delicate escort.
June was quickly becoming her go-to choice for the area. For some reason, Miquela thought about her constantly.
What was it about her? It wasn’t her experience. Miquela saw that all over the world. It also wasn’t her looks alone, for while she was beautiful, she was par for the working girl course. A mix of Agnes and Serene. Miquela leaned against the window, sighing. Just her luck, her imagination came to life. She tookboth herself and her fantasies to the bedroom, which had been fitted with a king-sized bed and dresser. Not much else, though.
She didn’t need anything, anyway. Just her hand and those fond memories.
Miquela didn’t fantasize about any particular aspect of Ms. June. That was impossible. Thinking about her had her eager to pleasure herself. Quickly, though. There were things to do, whatever they were.
It did not take her long, as she thought about the softness of June’s body around hers, her gorgeous moans of orgasm, and that look ofoh my God, you are fucking me so goodMiquela quickly brought herself to the edge and lost the ability to hold back a quick, necessary climax.
Shudders wracked her body. She smelled June’s perfume. Or perhaps that had been the incense she burned. Where could Miquela get some?
After straightening herself up, Miquela unearthed the box Aimee had been talking about before she left. One of the items was a token from June, given to Miquela before she left the morning after their night together. Miquela hadn’t bothered to look at it until now. Most women included a calling card and something like a handkerchief.
June?The devil.
Miquela pulled out a pair of used underwear. She recognized them from that night.Now that’s something.
