“Of course.” June pulled her hair to the side before giving up and tossing it behind her shoulders. “You’re the best, Ms. Bolivar. Promise me you’ll keep bidding on this hot body so you can fuck me all over the world.”
“I will. I promise.” Money wasn’t an issue, right? Miquela would top a hundred grand if it meant getting to have June in her apartment and taking her around the world for fun in the sun.She will be mine, or at least as much as she can be.Perhaps, later on… they could come to some sort of agreement… if feelings…
June surprised them both by suddenly climaxing against Miquela’s stomach. It wasn’t a big orgasm, but it amused her greatly.
“Ah, shucks, Ms. Bolivar.” She hopped off her and bounced onto the floor. “If you don’t mind, I would like to take a shower before turning in for the evening. Join me, if you want.”
Miquela’s heavy eyelids were too much to resist. “You go on ahead. If you don’t see me when I get out, it’s because I wanted to take a walk and clear my head.”
June kissed her before heading to the bathroom. “I’ll be about half an hour. And I’ll be horribly disappointed if you don’t share my bed with me tonight, Ms. Bolivar.”
“I’ll be there. Eventually.” Miquela waited until she had closed the bathroom door behind her before getting up and enjoying a little post-coital privacy. All she could hear was the shower running one room away and the ceiling fan whirling in the center of the bedroom.
She didn’t have a lot of opportunities to sit and admire the room. June usually took up her attention, but as Miquela redressed, she made special note of June’s tastes. The furniture was dark and rustic. Updated Victorian pieces. Soft browns and beiges to accent. Jewels littered her vanity. How many of those were gifts from clients over the years? Did she like the gift Miquela had sent her?
Miquela turned around and stared at a painting hanging above her dresser.I don’t think I’ve seen that before.
It was June, nude and relaxed. At first, Miquela assumed it was a commissioned piece of art, but the closer she inspected it, the more she recognized the intricate brush strokes and careful attention to detail. This wasn’t a piece done in a day because that’s what the client paid for. This was passion, pure andsimple. Miquela had seen a million art pieces in her life. She could tell the difference between commercialism and passion.
“She’s a quiet, intellectual type.”The word “artist” had been on June’s tongue.“She knows how to give it to me like you do.”
This was it. This was the other woman. The other woman who adored June enough to bid to be her patron.
Miquela searched for a signature. All she found were the initials “SC” emblazoned in gold in the corner. Not much to go on, not that she wanted too many details on a woman she would probably never meet. Literally the only thing they had connecting them was the woman in the picture.She fucks the both of us. So what? She can obviously afford her, too.
Yet she experienced a twinge of jealousy. It was one thing when these other clients were hypothetical. When there was no emotional attachment involved. All Miquela had ever asked the women she hired was that they stay clean and made time for her when she needed company.
This was different.
Before she could face the feelings brewing inside of her, however, Miquela marched out of the room, determined to take that walk she thought of earlier. June was still in the shower. Hopefully thinking of her.
The hallway was empty. If she stopped and listened to the otherwise quiet environment, Miquela could hear the harried moans of another woman down the hall. She blocked it out soon enough, but decided not to go down that way. Instead, she veered left, remembering the large balcony at the top of the grand staircase.
It was warm outside. Warm enough for her not to bother buttoning up her shirt as she stood by the railing and watched the night quietly go by. Nobody was down in the labyrinth. The only signs of life came from the rustling of wildlife and theoccasional maid passing in the hallway, ignoring the sounds of a pleasure house.
Miquela gripped the railing and inhaled the crisp mountain air. She thought she would be alone out there for the fifteen, twenty minutes she intended to enjoy it. It was a foolish thought, though, for it was only a matter of time before someone helped themselves to her company.
“Are you all right, ma’am?” Miquela didn’t know who this was, but she recognized one of June’s coworkers.I can tell from her slinky dress, the expensive jewelry, and perfume. The way she looked at Miquela, as if she were a piece of meat with a wallet worthy of devouring. “You look lonely out here.”
Miquela stared at her wild, curly red hair before turning her attention back to the natural world beyond the Manoir. “I’m fine, thank you. Out for a stroll to get some fresh air.”
She hoped that would send her on her way, but the redhead remained next to her. Miquela knew she was in trouble when she leaned against the railing as well. “You must be Miquela Bolivar. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Her ears perked up. “Who is talking about me?”
“June, of course.”
“Of course. I’m sure she’s the only one.” Didn’t she go on about non-disclosure? Or was that only with other clients? “I hope it’s good things people are talking about.”
“Naturally.” The young woman pointed her breasts toward her.They are lovely, certainly. Not as big as June’s, but perky in the only way youth allows. “Don’t be hard on her, though. Word travels fast about every client around here. We’re all up in each other’s business.”
Miquela smiled, but didn’t say anything.Can’t I get some peace?She didn’t dare ask the girl to leave. That would be rude. Like her.
“I couldn’t help but hear the fun you two were having a little while ago.” If she was expecting Miquela to be embarrassed about that, she was sure to be disappointed. People hearing sex in a place of business like this was to be expected. Miquela had to assume that everyone heard their sexual business every time she paid for a woman in a place that was not a private residence. “You should feel honored to be getting her real moans. They’re distinct from the fake ones. More so than most of the girls around here.”
“Including yours?”
“Definitely mine.” Her purr was probably meant to reflect the way she sounded when having an orgasm. It didn’t work on Miquela. “Whatever you’re doing to her, keep it up. She’s second-in-command around here, and if she’s happy, the rest of us are happy.”
