Chapter 44

Emily King was finally exactly where she was supposed to be - drunk and dancing her ass off surrounded by friends and fellow models who didn’t hate her. She was finally uninjured, unencumbered, young and beautiful. Could life get much better?

The answer, of course, was yes. Nobody got to win at everything. Pilar had basically stolen the show that Emily was supposed to be the star of and gotten the billionaire boyfriend who had somehow slipped through Emily’s fingers in spite of her best efforts. Even now, dancing with Kiki, King and Consort, she was a decidedly second-tier attraction to the all-singing, all-dancing Internet sensation, Pilar Rodriguez-Stone.

Just a season ago, she and Pilar had been a pair - light and dark, beautiful, but unapproachable, fire and ice. Pilar might come from a rich, powerful family and be connected to everyone and Emily a virtual hermit, but for all that, it had felt like an equal partnership. Now, all of a sudden, Pilar was head and shoulders above everyone and Emily was partnered with Kiki. She liked Kiki a lot - even if Kiki had been instrumental in helping Pilar secure Nick’s affection. Because, of course, the one thing Pilar had that Emily could never really touch was experience. Even going from Clive to Dennis had shown Emily how little she knew about being a sexual creature.

Tonight, that was going to change. Emily had spent half the night dancing with Kiki. She’d danced with Dennis and Nick and Max and a few other men, but she and Kiki kept finding each other in the crowd. It was right around midnight when Emily leaned in and asked. “Do you want to head back to the palazzo?”

Kiki smirked at her. “Only if you’re thinking sexy fun times. Kiki is having so much fun dancing.”

Emily flushed, trying to find the words. It hadn’t occurred to her that Kiki would have thought she might mean anything else.

Kiki saved her from having to explain. “Oh.” She stopped dancing and stepped in close to Emily. “Kiki is suddenly tired of dancing. Do you want to go find Dennis?”

Emily shook her head. “Maybe some other time? Dennis looks like he’s having a really good time tonight.”

Kiki nodded, took Emily’s hand, and led her out of the club to where the small fleet of cars were parked waiting to bring their group home. Neither of them spoke until they were in the limo and moving. Even then, Kiki was content first to cuddle up silently, then to start kissing Emily’s neck and, when Emily sighed and leaned her head back, the hollow of her throat. Partly because it tickled, but mostly because it felt good, Emily laughed. “Oh, Kiki. I’ve been a cruel tease these last few days. Haven’t I?”

“No. These last few days have been good.” Kiki cupped Emily’s breast through her dress. “The last year and a half was much harder.”

Emily laughed again and turned her head so that Kiki could kiss her mouth. After they’d made out for a while, Emily drew back to catch her breath. “I hope you know I have no idea what I’m supposed to do here.”

Kiki smiled, holding her gaze. “You don’t have to do anything tonight, Emily. Kiki wants very badly to worship the tall, blonde sun goddess in a most carnal way. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want.”

Emily ran a hand through Kiki’s hair. “You really are good for a girl’s ego.”

Kiki gave her a wicked grin. “Of all the Emily-parts I would like to stroke, I would think the ego needs it the least. Have you never seen a mirror?”

Emily laughed. “I’ve always thought I was pretty easy on the eye. Even at sixteen, I knew I had something the world wanted. Clive drove into my little flyspeck town looking for men who could work in his mine, but left with a lot more than he bargained for. I don’t know how many weird little towns he drove into looking for miners. When we drove out together ... I think it was the best I ever felt about myself. It might still be.”

A variety of emotions crossed Kiki’s face and Emily realized she’d accidentally altered the mood in the car. She reached up and cradled Kiki’s head in one hand, gently drawing her forward. “Sorry, Keek. Where were we?”

Kiki kissed her - slowly, deeply, and passionately until a low moan rose in Emily’s throat. There had been a certain playfulness to her earlier kisses, but this felt deadly serious. Emily found herself melting into it.

When Kiki broke the kiss, she leaned back and looked in Emily’s eyes, stroking her hair. “Do you want to talk about whatever’s on your mind or do you want me to help you forget about it for a while?”

Emily ran one hand down Kiki’s spine. “If it’s one or the other, forgetting definitely wins out.”

“It’s not.” said Kiki. “We are friends. Aren’t we, Em?”

“Of course.” Emily smiled at her. “Even when I was a total bitch, you were one of my favorite people. Do you remember that L’Oreal campaign?”

Kiki frowned. “I never worked for L’Oreal.”

“Neither did it, but the campaign was supposed to be a big deal. We both tried out for it.” Emily reminded her. “You’d just come to New York. We waited outside that studio for like two hours together and you had me and ... some other girls ... cracking up, talking about ‘hair porn’ and how the trick to booking the campaign was to ‘ceyes,’ which was...”

“Come with your eyes.” Kiki giggled. “I do remember that. Who booked that gig?”

“Nobody. They canceled the campaign.” said Emily. “If I’d booked it, I was going to move out of Clive’s apartment and get my own place.”

“How is he?” Kiki asked.

“I really don’t want to talk about it.” Emily laid her head back against the seat and closed her eyes.

“Really?” Kiki laid a hand on Emily’s stomach and spoke gently. “Because you’re sure talking about him a lot if you don’t want to talk about him. I tell you you’re beautiful, you tell me how Clive thought you were beautiful. We talk about how we met, you tell me about the state of your relationship with Clive at the time. I’d kiss you again, but I’m afraid you’d say, ‘Clive used to kiss me.’”

Kiki’s tone had been teasing and Emily allowed herself to laugh. “All right. He has been on my mind, but there’s really nothing to say about the situation. He’s only alive because the machines he’s hooked up to won’t let him die. Nick is helping his family make arrangements to bring him back to Australia. My part in that story is over.”

Kiki nodded, her face seriously. “That’s got to suck. From everything you said, Clive was a good man.”

Emily let out a bark of laughter, then looked at Kiki. “You are kidding. Aren’t you?”

“A prince among men, a paragon of virtue, in action, how like an angel, in apprehension, how like a god...” Kiki had lowered her head and continued to speak solemnly, but couldn’t fight off the smirk.

“Ok, fine.” Emily returned the smirk. “He was an asshole. As far as I know, he’s still an asshole having asshole dreams in his asshole coma. But in between being an asshole, he was also my lover and my best friend and the guy who saved me from growing old trying to escape to the hustle and bustle of Coober Pedy ... not to mention my meal ticket for six long years. I never got to thank him for any of that.”

“You didn’t? I thought you had sex with him once or twice?” Kiki asked.

“A little more than that.” said Emily. “And that wasn’t thanks. That was ... rent sometimes. Most of the time, I wanted it as much as he did, I think. I was in love with him for years and, even when I wasn’t, I would get so lonely when he would go away for months at a time.”

Kiki snuggled up under Emily’s arm. “I was in love with my violin teacher when I was fourteen. He was like ninety, but he had the most amazing hands. The skin on them was paper thin, but they were so precise. The last time I saw him, he still played better than I ever would have.”

Emily turned to look at her. “You didn’t... ?”

Kiki shook her head. “No. But, I used to touch myself and imagine they were his fingers inside of me. He would have known just where to touch.”

Emily relaxed again. “I guess you hadn’t hit your stride yet.”

Kiki shook her head. “Kiki wasn’t Kiki yet. At fourteen, I was still Tiger Cub.”

Emily frowned. “Am I ... missing a reference?”

“When I was growing up, my mother was tiger mom, stage mom.” Kiki recited. “She wanted me to be a big success in Hollywood even though there were like no jobs for little Japanese girls. She was convinced that if I could just be the best at ... pretty much everything Hollywood might ever want, I would be first on line when those jobs materialized. At fourteen, I was taking violin, piano, voice, diction, tap, ballet, gymnastics ... It would be another year before she decided I was a failure and stopped paying for lessons. After that, I only saw Daisuke-sensei in my dreams.”

“Oh, wow.” Emily said, subdued.

Kiki shook her head in the negative. “It’s not sad. There were like a hundred of us - little Japanese tiger cubs being ferried from audition to audition. The ones whose mothers gave up when they were younger turned out so normal, it’s kind of weird. A lot of the ones who dropped out later or didn’t drop out at all wound up in porn. Fifteen was just the right age for Kiki to become Kiki. Something’s got to burn for the phoenix to be born.”

Emily reached up and touched Kiki’s jaw, feather-light. “Can I ask what that means? You talk about Kiki like she’s a different person sometimes.”

“Compartmentalization.” said Kiki like it was the whole answer, requiring no further information. As Emily was about to ask her to elaborate, she went on. “Or the manifestation of an acute but transitory bout of an unspecified dissociative disorder if you want to believe the shrink my father sent me to, but I just think he wanted some new syndrome to attach his name to. I’ve always known that I’m Kiki and that Kiki is a part of who I am, but having a name for her lets me pick and choose the parts I want to be. Kiki is fabulous and beautiful and sexy and doesn’t engage in any shit-based transactions, neither the giving nor the taking thereof. Kiki doesn’t gossip or worry or tapdance. Kiki wants and is wanted. Kiki never disappoints anyone because no one is allowed to expect things of Kiki. The rest of it is all still there, but most of the time, I can put it aside and just be Kiki.”

“Is ... Kiki not your real name then?” Emily asked. “I feel stupid for not realizing that.”

“The name on my driver’s license is ‘Yuriko,’ but I don’t like it.” said Kiki. “Yuriko is my girl name.”

“Girl name?” Emily asked.

Kiki leaned in close and whispered in Emily’s ear. “Kiki is a boy.”

Emily didn’t want to glance down at her friend’s crotch, but she did. Kiki followed her eyes and laughed. “It’s all girl parts, just ... I have two older brothers. They were basically allowed to do whatever the hell they wanted. My father raised them. As long as they weren’t getting arrested or taking drugs or getting anybody pregnant, they ran wild. No ballet. No tap. No violin. They didn’t listen to my mother. They told her what to do. Kiki doesn’t listen to my mother either. Ergo, she’s a boy.”

Emily didn’t say anything for a while, lost in thought. Eventually, Kiki said. “You got quiet. Does that mean I ruined my chance for sexy fun time?”

Emily shook her head in the negative. “No. I was just trying to figure out if you were remarkably well-adjusted or completely starkers. It’s a question I ask about myself a lot. Most of the time, I think I’m doing really well, all things considered. But every once in a while, I find myself wondering if everything that happened since I left home is just some illusion God threw in front of me to test my faith and I failed it so badly that he’s just decided to keep using it to punish me.”

Kiki kissed Emily’s cheek. “You know that’s a bit ... starkers. Don’t you?”

“Most of the time, yeah.” Emily nodded as they pulled off the highway to approach the palazzo. “Will you show me how to ... do things to you?”

Kiki gave her a devilish smile. “You want to do things to Kiki? Sexy fun things?”

“The sexier the better.” Emily confirmed.

“Kiki will demonstrate. Emily can repeat.” As they got out of the car, Kiki took Emily’s hand, led her through the courtyard and the lobby. Emily was braced for Kiki to pounce on her in the elevator, but Kiki was content to stand there holding her hand even though she seemed to be vibrating with excitement. Or maybe that was Emily herself. Somehow, in the course of the ride over, being with Kiki had gone from something she was curious about and thought she would probably enjoy to something she was eagerly anticipating.

By the time they got to Kiki’s rooms, Emily was ready to go and the sitting room seemed much too wide to cross. When Kiki took her hand and made to pull her forward, Emily tugged back, drawing the smaller woman into her arms and kissing her deeply. Kiki melted into it, one hand tracing over the side of Emily’s side where the zipper was hidden. Emily broke the kiss to tell Kiki the zipper was there and ask her to undo it when she realized Kiki had already done so and was running her hand up under it to trace the bare flesh of her back. Emily laughed. “Eager much?”

“Pretty much always. But especially tonight. I’ve got two years worth of dirty thoughts about you to choose from and I barely know where to start.” Kiki reached up with her free hand and gently kneaded Emily’s breast. “Here seems good.”

Emily laughed. “Kiki really is a boy. Isn’t he?”

“She.” Kiki reached up and lowered the straps of Emily’s dress over her arms. “She really is. Dr. Takahashi said I even visualize like a boy.”

Emily laughed and wriggled the rest of the way out of her dress. Underneath, she was wearing the same bra and panty set she’d worn as the King - a black and gold ensemble with a French cut bottom and a simple demi-cup top that supported her chest, but didn’t try to enhance it. “What does that mean?”

Kiki lifted her own dress over her head. Underneath, she wore a tiny black thong and bra from Agent Provocateur. “It means that the first time I saw you, I immediately and involuntarily imagined bending you over the arm of the couch you were standing next to, hiking up your skirt, and fisting you until you begged me to stop. Apparently...”

Kiki kept talking, but the blood rushing to Emily’s ears kept her from hearing the rest. “Fisting?”

Kiki strode over and wrapped an arm around Emily’s waist. Despite being a full head shorter, she managed to give the move a bit of masculine, dominant swagger. “Have you ever been fisted, Emily?”

Emily shook her head. “Is that even really a thing?”

Kiki nodded and unhooked Emily’s bra. “I wouldn’t recommend starting with it, but it can really drive the right woman wild once everything is simmering along nicely.”

Emily was still trying to imagine what it would look and feel like to be penetrated by an entire fist at once. “It sounds ... really obscene.”

“Some very sexy things are.” Kiki drew Emily’s bra down off her shoulders and took one nipple in her mouth. Suddenly, their height difference seemed almost like divine providence. As Kiki licked and sucked one nipple, she stroked and teased the other with her hand. The twin touches were like a live wire directly to Emily’s clit. She moaned and sagged against the wall.

“Oh, good. You’re sensitive.” Kiki whispered so that her breath cooled the wetness her mouth had left behind and raised another sensation in the pit of Emily’s stomach.

“Isn’t everyone?” Emily asked.

Kiki shook her head and took Emily’s hand. “Not everyone. In my experience, women with big breasts can often be a lot less sensitive. You I should probably get into bed before I find out just how sensitive you are.”

Emily followed Kiki into her bedroom. “How sensitive are you?”

“Very.” Kiki guided Emily to the bed and gave her a gentle backwards shove to sit her down. “Sometimes, I swear I could come just from having my tits played with, but I’ve never had the patience to find out. Lie down.”

Emily did, but laughed. “You’re a little bossy in bed. Aren’t you?”

“When it’s warranted. If I’m with a girl who doesn’t know for sure she should be here or who’s used to having a man take the lead, I can work with that.” said Kiki. “Take your panties off.”

Emily did. There was something surprisingly hot about being bossed around by Kiki. “Now what?”

Kiki stripped reached back and unhooked her own bra. “Touch yourself for me.”

“What?” Emily flushed at the idea.

“You have the most amazing tits.” Kiki slid out of her panties. “So big, so firm, so sensitive. I want to get back to worshipping them and I’m betting it will feel pretty amazing if you touch yourself while I do.”

Emily closed her eyes. “I’ve never ... no one’s ever seen me do that.”

Kiki climbed onto the bed. “This is a night for firsts, Em. Will you touch yourself for me?”

Emily nodded without opening her eyes. She hadn’t been objecting exactly, only surprised. She spread her legs and slid one finger inside herself, teasing her bud. Kiki stroked the flat of her stomach, watching long enough for arousal and self-consciousness to start to war in Emily’s head. Then Kiki was again sucking, licking, and teasing her nipples. Emily groaned and bucked her hips against her own hand, momentarily losing the rhythm. Kiki kept on, her mouth and hand moving like they already knew Emily’s most intimate secrets. After a moment to recover, Emily resumed touching herself. It wasn’t long before the first orgasm rocked her whole body. The second one followed hard on its heels, the waves of pleasure crashing down on her.

Momentarily afraid that a third one might kill her, Emily drew her hand away from her own sex. When her pleasure rose again anyway, she moaned Kiki’s name. Kiki either got the wrong message or had her own agenda because a moment later, she’d shifted to kneel between Emily’s legs and was sliding a finger into the other woman’s heat.

Emily whimpered and bucked her hips. The pleasure built and crashed and didn’t kill her. Even as she was riding its wave, she felt the pressure between her legs increased dramatically and she cried out, looking up. “Christ, Kiki. Are you fisting me?”

Kiki shook her head. “Just two fingers. Do you want me to fist you?”

Emily’s whole body was a maelstrom of desire. “M-maybe?”

Kiki smiled. “How about this then?”

Emily didn’t have to ask what Kiki meant. Even as she spoke, the pressure between Emily’s legs lessened only for a twin pressure from behind to suddenly rise as Kiki reinserted her finger into Emily’s body.

“Fuck!” Emily howled. “Kiki?”

“That’s what I’m doing, Em.” Kiki leered down at her like a devil proud of her torturing ability. “Do you like it?”

“Fuck!” Emily howled again. Then, even that much vocalization was lost to her as the sensation of Kiki’s fingers, hands, mouth, and body overwhelmed her seemingly everywhere at once. She lost all track of time and even space for a while, forgetting where she was and even who was responsible for her total sensory overload for a while. She became an antenna receiving messages from the universe in the form of pleasure.

At some point, she came back to herself without really coming down. She was gasping for air, her chest and stomach covered in sweat, hair plastered to her head, her whole body still humming on some secret cosmic frequency. Kiki had stopped the most direct of her torments, but their legs were intertwined and the petite Japanese woman was grinding her sex against Emily’s upper thigh, one hand between her own legs. As Emily watched, Kiki shuddered to climax. Emily took the opportunity to roll, pinning Kiki under her.

Kiki smiled up at her. “You’ve got me. Now what?”

Emily reached down between Kiki’s legs. “Well, I kind of lost track of what you were doing for a while there, but I remember this much.” She slid in a single finger, tracing over the core of Kiki’s pleasure. Kiki moaned and bucked against her. Emily slid in a second finger. “And this.”

Kiki groaned and bucked and gasped, her body gripping Emily’s digits like a vice. Emily felt so powerful. She leaned in close to Kiki’s ear. “And I heard about something called ‘fisting’ tonight.”

Kiki’s hand caught Emily wrist. She shook her head. “Don’t. Please. Two fingers are plenty.”

“Oh.” Emily frowned and continued to stroke her internally. “I heard it could really be something once everything is simmering along nicely.” She pinched Kiki’s clit between her fingers. “Are you simmering along nicely, Kiki?”

“God, yes!” Kiki groaned and writhed. “But ... I’m too narrow. You have ... really big hands, Em.”

Emily held up her free hand where Kiki could see it. Indignantly, she said. “My hands are proportional to my body.”

Kiki nodded. “Your big ... Amazon body. Kiki is petite in some crucial dimensions. Your fist would be too much.”

Emily continued to finger-fuck her. “Well, I’ve only had my fingers in one other vagina before, but I must say that yours does seem awfully tight.”

Kiki groaned and nodded, holding on to Emily’s wrist. “A blessing and a curse.”

“Were you able to fist me?” Emily asked absent-mindedly, still tormenting Kiki.

“I ... probably ... could have.” Kiki nodded. “I needed one of my fingers for something else, though.”

“Oh.” Emily slid one finger out from between Kiki’s legs and teased the pucker of her ass. “Was it something like this?”

“God, yes!” Kiki nodded emphatically. “Like that, but deeper.”

Taking the hint, Emily slid her fingers deeper inside Kiki.

Some time well after midnight, Max decided the little joke he’d been watching unfold all night had gone on long enough. He and Simon were sitting at one of the tables in Alcatraz watching people dance. Max leaned in and said. “That Angelique sure is something. Isn’t she?”

Simon nodded. “She sure is.”

“And by ‘something,’ I mean ‘a prostitute.’” Max added. He’d been watching Simon escort the young woman around all night, waiting on her like a courtier seeking favor from a queen and was glad not to be the only one taken in this time.

“I kind of figured that out around the time I paid her to have sex with me.” Simon smirked.

Max scowled at him. “Why would you do that? Even you should be able to get some for free on this trip.”

“Probably, but the free stuff is way too expensive.” Simon poured himself a glass of wine. “Transactional is definitely the way to go. Angie’s fun and she’s good at pretending I am too.”

“How much are you paying her?” Max asked, morbidly curious.

“Roughly twice what I contributed to your girlfriend’s GoFundMe campaign ... for which I received a thank you email and a warm smile.” Simon sipped his wine. “Much less than it would cost to give her an apartment or a job or fly her to St. Martin. So far, it’s the best relationship I’ve ever had.”

“Better than Shelby?”

Simon closed his eyes and moved his head like he was doing some sort of calculation. “Too soon to tell. What does it profit a man to gain all the pussy in the world and lose his immortal soul?”

Max winced. “What?”

“Never mind.” Simon saw Max had picked up his own glass and poured for him. “Shelby ordered me to get laid while I’m here. Remember? This is the least messy way for me to do that. We all pay for it, Max.”

Before Max could answer, Dennis came over to the table. “Hey, have either of you seen Emily lately? I can’t find her anywhere.”

“Yeah. I just...” Max looked at his phone and saw what time it was. “Actually, it was like two hours ago. Sorry. Have you asked Rosangela?”

Dennis frowned. “Who’s Rosangela?”

“Italian, long hair, very pretty, working for Nick on this trip.” Max said.

“Looks like a young Aria Giovanni.” Simon added.

“Oh her. She works for Nick?” Dennis asked.

“Yeah. And she’s keeping track of the limo fleet. If Emily left and took one of the cars, Aria would know.” Max told him.

“Rosangela.” said Simon.

“Right. Her.” Max accepted a fresh glass of wine.

Dennis rose and looked around the club. Absentmindedly, he said. “Ok, yeah. I’ll try to find her so she can tell me where my girlfriend is. Thanks.”

Simon watched as his brother walked away from the table. “That’s not going to end well.”

“What’s not?” Max asked.

“Emily left with Kiki like two hours ago.” Simon sipped his wine. “And Dennis just called Emily his girlfriend. He hasn’t called anyone his girlfriend since Monica Lazenby broke his heart in the eighth grade.”

“Wait. I’m missing a step between underwear and profit.” said Max. “Why did Emily leave with Kiki?”

Simon gave him a patented did-you-seriously-ask-that look. “Why does anyone leave with Kiki?”

Max frowned. “First off, I’m sure plenty of people have gone plenty of places with Kiki and not had sex with her. And B, Emily’s not into girls. She told me so herself.”

Simon continued to give him that look and Max thought his friend was just trying to unnerve him without having more to say. Then Simon said. “Imagine Emily was a billionaire and she slept with a lot of guys. You’re her friend and you think she wants to sleep with you, but every guy she’s slept with is bi.”

“Ok. Interesting scenario.” Max shook his head. “I’m still not bi. Emily is God’s gift to erections, but I’m not sucking dick to get to her.”

“Would you have said the same thing before you met Paige?” Simon asked.

Max opened his mouth to answer, but it wasn’t hard to remember what it had felt like to be a desperate eighteen year-old virgin who thought he might wind up an incel for the rest of his life. He scowled and, instead of answering, took a sip of his wine.

“Exactly.” said Simon. “I suspect a lot of women are going to discover a latent bisexuality in themselves when they meet Nick.”

“Like Shelby did?” Max knew he was a bad person for saying it, but he couldn’t resist the dig.

Simon seemed unbothered. “Excellent point. I really don’t think Shelby’s angling to sleep with Nick, but I also think she was straight as a German draftsman’s t-square before I dragged Alexis into bed with us. Maybe the two of them would have gotten together anywhere outside of Brownfield Mills, but they’re certainly going to get less flack for it in the Loft than pretty much anywhere in the world.” He laughed. “Hell, we left them alone with Cat for a week. The gods alone know what that’s going to do to them.”

Max sat back and frowned. “Paige was making out with girls in St. Martin. Do you think that means she wants to sleep with Nick?”

“Maybe it means she just wants to keep sleeping with you and she’s worried she’s got to up her game when you’re surrounded by hot bi girls.” said Simon. “But she probably wants to sleep with Nick too. Nick’s the hottest girl in the room right now.”

Max crossed his arms. “Gee, thanks for the reassurance.”

“Do you want to fuck Emily?” Simon asked.

“Not if she really is Dennis’s girlfriend.” Max hedged.

“I didn’t ask if you would take the opportunity were it presented, although I still wouldn’t believe your answer if that were the question.” said Simon. “I asked if you wanted to. I like to believe that I wouldn’t fuck my brother’s girlfriend even if given the chance, but do I want to? I’m pretty sure I want to fuck every woman I’ve met in the last month. Have you noticed that even our maids are hot?”

“I ... try not to.” Max hedged again.

“Name one woman you’ve met since moving into the Loft that you didn’t want to fuck.” Simon challenged him. “Connie Carlysle maybe?”

“I meet plenty of women I don’t want to fuck.” Max protested. “I do actually leave the Loft sometimes. The streets of New York are full of unfuckable women, Simon.”

“Full?” Simon raised an eyebrow.

“Half full.” Max amended, then thought about some of the women he’d seen in their neighborhood. “All right - a quarter to a third of the women I’ve seen on the streets of New York hold no prurient interest for me. That’s still a lot of women.”

“Have you met any of them?” Simon asked.

“A few.” Max looked at his empty wine glass and reached for the bottle to refill it. “Wait. Why are we talking about unfuckable women?”

“Because you’re worried that Paige wants to sleep with Nick and I enjoy pointing out what an enormous hypocrite you are sometimes.” Simon refilled his own glass. “I also notice you didn’t answer my question about Connie Carlisle.”

Max shook his head. He hadn’t realized there was a question. “I’m still a little scared of Connie, but I wouldn’t say no to her. Connie knows things.”

As Arwen stripped out of her party clothes, she watched Lev sit in the chair by her bed and struggle to stay awake long enough to get undressed. He’d taken off his shoes and stripped to the waist and now sat with his pants undone like he was too tired to haul himself out of the chair and finish getting undressed. Still, his eyes followed her as she undressed and there was a hunger there. She made a little show of taking her clothes off, watching his eyes widen a little as she did. She felt powerful knowing that he was forcing himself to stay awake and watch.