Chapter 11

Mom actually agreed to switch their hotel to the Mandarin Oriental, the hotel Jenna had recommended back in Scotland, which now seemed like a lifetime ago. They took a single room with a king-sized bed. It had a small sitting area, which was quite nice, and which Pete could easily imagine reading in. If they were going to be reading.

Mom had left a message for Katja’s “friend” on the train ride from Amsterdam, and they were still unpacking when the man called back. Pete didn’t hear the whole conversation, but the result was an agreement to meet for drinks at a café near the Louvre.

“Which gives us time this afternoon to visit it!” Mom exclaimed.

Pete just chuckled.

They arrived at the Louvre with about two hours before their meeting. Fortunately, the line to get in was short, but Mom already wanted to come back the following day. Pete laughed at her eagerness.

Pete’s nerves grew as they strolled to the café. Philippe and Sandrine Desjardins. He knew nothing about them but their names. Some internet searches hadn’t turned up anything meaningful, but these days, internet searches were all ads anyway. He missed the days when Google was actually useful.

They café had a few tables outside near the street, but they were empty. Pete opened the door for Mom. She spoke briefly to the host, who then led them through the cafe to a private little courtyard in the back. As they entered, a couple at a table in the corner rose to their feet. The host pointed Pete and mom their way.

The couple were both clearly in their fifties, but also fit and attractive. The man had thick gray hair, impeccably coiffed. He wore a dark sports coat and a forest green button down shirt that would’ve been at home in either a boardroom or a nightclub. The woman, slim with dark chestnut hair, was more petite next to her partner. Her dress, though, hugged her figure while being elegant enough for a high tea.

“Pete and Diane, I presume?” the man said. When Mom nodded, he continued, “It is good to meet you. I am Philippe and this is my wife Sandrine. Please, join us.”

As they sat, the waiter appeared with menus. Philippe said a few words in French, before looking at Pete and Mom.

“Kir Royale?” he asked in English. A quick glance revealed that was what he and Sandrine had ordered.

“Please.” Mom said.

Phillipe said a few more words in French to the waiter, who then departed.

“So,” he said next. “We understand you were in Amsterdam. How did you find the city?”

“Oh, we enjoyed it,” Mom replied. “It’s quite beautiful.”

“It is. We enjoy the Jordaan neighborhood.”

“We only visited that briefly,” Mom said. “Though it was pretty.”

“It was,” Pete added.

They talked about being tourists in Amsterdam until well after the Kir Royales arrived. Phillipe and Sandrine visited the city a couple of times a year and knew many out-of-the-way shops and restaurants. He did most of the talking, but drew her out with questions from time to time. The conversation wandered through visits to London and stories about life in the States. Phillipe told some amusing stories that got to Mom to laugh and everyone was very relaxed by the time they’d finished their second round of drinks.

“So...,” Phillipe said, “I spoke with Katja after receiving your call. Did you enjoy your time with her and her sister?”

“Very much,” Mom said with a warm smile. “It was one of the best nights of my life.”

Pete nodded agreement.

“Delightful. We have enjoyed our time with them as well.”

“And you also...?” Mom prompted.

Phillipe smiled. “Our children, Theo and Clara, could not be here tonight, but they often join us.”

“Ah. And we could...?”

“There is a club,” Phillipe said, “that we like to attend, all four of us. It’s a ... well, I shall be direct. A swinger’s club. We could meet you there tomorrow night and, if things continue to go well, perhaps adjourn to a back room?”

Mom smiled. “That sounds delightful.” She turned to Pete and raised an eyebrow in silent question.

He grinned. “We’ll see you there.”

“We’re really going to do this,” Mom muttered as they entered their hotel room.

“It looks like it,” Pete replied.

“If you’d told me two weeks ago...” She rolled her eyes but gave him a warm smile.

He pulled her into his arms. “Yeah, but who would’ve expected the best sex of my life would be with my mom?”

She laughed. “Yeah ... I really didn’t think I’d get into it.” She rested her head against his shoulder. It’s so ... wild.”

“We don’t have to meet them.”

“No ... no I want to. I just...” She lifted her head and smiled at him.

Her eyes shone with happiness. Like she’d found contentment. He hugged her and she hugged him back, without diverting her gaze.

He moistened his lips. She continued to smile.

So he slowly bent his head.

She turned her head so his kiss landed on her cheek.

“No,” she said, looking away. “No. We can’t do that.”

He frowned but kept still.

“We can’t.”

“Okay...”

“We’re mother and son. Not lovers. Fuckbuddies.”

“Fuckbuddies who don’t kiss.”

“Maybe ... maybe sometime. But not now.”

“What do you want now?”

“A good fucking.”

“Ha! I can do that.”

“You better, Buster!”

He kissed her cheek again, this time a bit further back, and then trailed his lips along her jawline. She sucked in her breath and tugged him toward the bed. Clothes flew off and she scooted to the middle of the mattress.

He stretched out beside her and continued kissing her neck and jaw. Then he shifted and began to work his way south. He swirled his tongue around one nipple when she stopped him.