Читать книгу Quench My Thirst - R. Moreen Clarke - Страница 6

Desmond watched Olivia out of the corner of his eye. She shifted nervously in her seat next to the aisle. He reached over and squeezed her hand, assuring her that everything would be fine before returning his gaze to the fluffy white clouds outside the airplane window. They were still a good hour out from the Chicago airport. He had debated all night and the following day about giving her more information about Trevor. He still did not have all the details. A brief search on the Internet the following morning allowed him to peruse the Chicago Sun Times newspaper. The story wasn’t the headline, but it still nonetheless made front-page news. FORTUNE 500 EXECUTIVE ARRESTED IN LOVE-TRIANGLE MURDER. The details were yet to be disclosed, but one victim remained comatose, and another was dead. Trevor was arrested at the scene of the crime.

Olivia had walked into his office while he was reading the article, and at the sight of Trevor’s face in the grainy newspaper photo, tears had filled her eyes again. They weren’t able to get a flight out the next day and had to wait an additional day to travel. The extra time gave them a day to advise their jobs and family where they were going and why.

Olivia’s parents told her to give Trevor their best and assure him he was in their prayers. She tried to contact his family to find out if they were going to see him. His older sister answered the phone and said no, they were not going to get involved. Olivia, surprised by the sheer venom in his sister’s voice, questioned why. Edith, the eldest of the Calhoun clan, snidely remarked they knew his sinful ways would catch up with him one day. Just like chickens coming home to roost, this was bound to happen. Olivia was appalled by her lack of concern and puzzled by the “sinful ways” comment. When she pressed her about it, she simply told her to ask Trevor or the other demon, Damian.

Olivia didn’t mention her comments to Desmond. She told him due to some family issues, the Calhouns would be unable to assist Trevor. She pondered the comments now as she waited for them to arrive in Chicago. What did Trevor get involved in, which led to all this trouble he was in? She knew he would never kill anybody; of this she was certain. She closed her eyes and said another silent prayer for Trevor.

Trevor sat quietly in the tiny cell at the Cook County Correctional Facility. He looked around his surroundings and wondered how he had messed up so badly to end up here. What clues had he missed because he’d gotten “soft”? Damian had warned him, but he was too tired, too drained, and too caught up in the game to pay him any heed. He leaned back against the cement wall and stared at the dirty metal toilet and sink, both placed so low on the wall it cramped his six-foot, five-inch frame just trying to use them. His bed was a white metal rack attached to the wall, and even it was too short for his body length.

He leaned his elbows on his knees and rested his head in his hands. He hadn’t intended to get anybody killed. He was just trying to protect himself. Damian had hired him a lawyer, who assured Trevor he could get him released. The lawyer told him it was a clear-cut case. Trevor had been processed through the system, but no charges had been formally filed. The police were still gathering evidence to present to the state attorney’s office to determine what he would be charged with. Though he had no prior record, he would have to wait for his arraignment to see if bail would be granted. Meanwhile, he was stuck here in this hellhole. Every passing day was one day too long.

Damian had told him Olivia and Des were on their way. Trevor cursed Damian for calling her. There was no way he could keep his secret life from her anymore. At this point the cops weren’t aware of the real reason he was in the hotel room, and they weren’t digging too deeply into it. They were taking it as an affair gone badly. If this went to trial, it was sure to come out why he’d gone there and how he knew the victims. Things could only get worse from there.

Sighing deeply, he leaned back against the cement wall and closed his eyes. He thought about his very first client.

She was an older French woman who owned an international cosmetics company. She was a steady client of Damian’s, but he was tied up, and he sent Trevor to meet with her. Trevor pulled up to the gated mansion and pressed the intercom to announce his arrival. A butler answered and buzzed him through. As the massive wrought-iron gates parted to allow him access to the driveway, Trevor whistled under his breath. The house was breathtaking, befitting a tour on the homes of the rich and famous. He continued around the circular drive, convinced he was looking at Windsor Castle. He parked the car in front of the mansion. As he opened the car door, a valet mysteriously appeared and asked for his keys. He tossed the keys to the uniformed driver and walked up the front steps to the gigantic wood-carved doors.

The door had opened as magically as the valet appeared, and a butler bade him entrance into the cavernous foyer. Marble floors spanned the expanse of the foyer. Famous works of art and antiques were mounted on walls and pedestals throughout. Though it was the middle of the day, the foyer was dark.

“This way, sir,” the butler said stiffly and pointed in the direction of a doorway off to the right. Trevor followed him silently, still taking in the magnificence of the decor. They entered a huge library. Rich, carved, mahogany bookcases filled with books lined the walls. There was a marble fireplace with a lit fire glowing inside. Trevor thought this strange in the middle of spring; it wasn’t even cool outside today. Oddly it did not seem to generate much heat. The butler excused himself and closed the doors behind him.

Trevor wandered over to the nearest bookcase and began to peruse some of the titles. Many were rare first-edition books. He picked up an Edgar Rice Burroughs first edition, Tarzan, and carefully opened the cover. It was in pristine condition. He delicately fingered the pages. He reflected on the Tarzan movies of his youth. Johnny Weissmuller had been his inspiration for joining the swimming team in high school. Trevor was an accomplished swimmer, but it was at basketball that he excelled.

“Do you like to read, young man?” a delicate feminine voice asked from a wing chair near the fireplace. The lilting French accent was charming. Trevor raised his eyes from the page. How did he miss seeing her there? She stared into the fireplace as though transfixed. He placed the book back on the shelf and walked over to face her.

“Yes, ma’am. I love to read. I especially like historical novels and ancient tales.” He smiled down at her. She was a well-preserved woman. He wasn’t certain of her age. She was very petite with a slim build. Her flawless, unwrinkled skin was the color of cocoa beans. Her long dark brown hair was coiffed in two French braids. The ends of the silky braids were intertwined and fell down the middle of her back. Her fingers were long and delicate. Even in the darkened room he could see her sea-green eyes. She was still a stunning woman. She wore a long sleeveless yellow floral dress. It had a high-neck mandarin collar, exposing delicate shoulders. She seemed a very fragile creature. He wondered how well she could hold up during sex. Since it was the reason he was here.

“Please sit down, young man. Tell me, what is your name?” she asked as she indicated with a slim hand the wing chair opposite her.

“Trevor, ma’am,” he replied, settling into the chair and finding it surprisingly comfortable.

“No, what is your real name?” she asked, arching one eyebrow slightly.

“My name is Trevor,” he repeated.

“I see. Yes, this is your first time, isn’t it? You have much to learn, young man. I’m certain this is why Damian has sent you here.” She adjusted her position in the chair slightly. “First, please call me Claudette. You make me feel so old when you call me ma’am. I know I am old, but you should not remind me of this, oui?”

“My apologies, Claudette,” he replied, glancing down at his watch. Damian told him he was to spend no more than an hour here. It was all he would be paid for.

“Mistake number two,” she said and looked at him sternly.

“I’m sorry,” he fumbled again. Maybe I’m not cut out for this, he thought. I’m screwing up already, and I don’t even know how. “Maybe I should not be here,” he said and started to rise from his chair.

“Sit down, my friend. You are young and inexperienced in the venture you are about to undertake. If you are to be successful, you have much to learn. Patience is the first and foremost of the tools you will need,” she said. She pushed a button on the table, and in a few moments the butler appeared in the doorway.

“Henri, please bring my friend a warmed cognac and a pot of tea for me,” she said to the butler. He nodded his head and closed the door behind him.

“Never allow a woman to see you watching the clock. Nothing will spoil the mood faster than the thought you are in a rush or racing off to make love to someone else. It will only serve to remind her she is paying for your time,” she said and paused to clear her throat. “Trevor.” She paused thoughtfully. “The name does suit you,” she concluded with a smile and then continued. “Today we will spend the afternoon talking. I am sure you are an accomplished lover, but I can see already you do not have an understanding of women. Not the kind of understanding you will need to command the money Damian does. If you are to become his partner, you must learn many things.”

Intrigued, Trevor leaned back in his chair. Who did this old broad think she was talking to? He’d yet to receive a complaint from any of the women he’d been with. He prided himself on leaving them satisfied and wanting more. Still, Damian had sent him here, and he was curious to hear what she would say.

The butler returned and placed a tray with a small teapot, cup, and saucer on the table next to Claudette. He poured her a cup of tea and then came back with another small tray and set it on the table next to Trevor. The tray contained a chrome brandy warmer with a little votive candle in it. He poured a generous shot of Courvoisier Imperial in a Baccarat crystal snifter and lit the candle. Carefully he placed the snifter in the warmer. He looked questioningly at Claudette, who nodded her head, and then he departed the room. Trevor was making mental notes of all he was exposed to. The Courvoisier Imperial was something he’d never even heard of. The elegance of this whole atmosphere was astounding; he’d never witnessed this kind of sophistication firsthand before. It was certainly a lifestyle he could see himself getting used to.

“Now, dear. Let’s talk about love. You see, to be successful in pleasing women, you must remember that women, for the most part, believe that sex and love are intertwined. I know women are very bold these days and want to put forth the image that sex is all about pleasure. But to truly be pleasured, a woman must feel loved, if only for the brief time you are with her. She does not have to love you, and you certainly do not have to love her, but she must feel for that brief span of time that you are in love with her body. In most cases, she will be the only naked woman in the room, so this should not be so hard to accomplish.” She laughed delicately at her own wit.

Trevor picked up the warm cognac and took a sip. The first sip spun like liquid fire down his throat. His second sip was smooth, like liquid gold, and unlike any he’d ever tasted. A warm glow settled in the room as he listened to Claudette.

“Where do you kiss a woman to light the fire in her?” she asked and took a sip of tea. She watched him closely as his emotions flashed across his face. He did not like to be tested, but she could see that part of him wanted to be right when he responded.

“On her neck, behind her ear, her breasts, and her sweet spot,” he answered slowly.

“Do you have any idea how many erogenous areas you have omitted?” she asked.

“No,” he replied quietly. He had failed the first test, and it annoyed him.

“Lesson one, my dear. The inside of her wrist is a wonderful place for soft, feathery kisses. She need not be naked for you to do this. You begin to set the pace before the clothes are even removed. The next spot would be the inside of her upper arm. It will tingle and even tickle slightly, making her giggle, but she will enjoy it immensely. The key is to go slowly, build the fire one twig at a time. You need not pour starter fluid all over to develop a bonfire in the end. Stoke your fire slowly, and it will burn a very long time,” she explained.

Trevor leaned back in his chair, snifter in hand, and listened aptly. Claudette gave him a lesson in pleasure, which astounded him. He spent three hours with her the first afternoon, and she insisted on paying him for his time. They would spend several more afternoons together just talking, laughing, and learning about one another. Sex was not a pressing issue for Claudette, and she so enjoyed his company, she hesitated to disrupt the bond growing between them just to satisfy a carnal need.

Each time he visited her, she would present him with a special gift. She showered him with gifts in addition to the money she paid him. She’d given him his first case of Molton Brown products and explained how important it was for him to keep up his body, not only with workouts, but also with moisturizer and toners to keep his skin supple. She brought in a professional valet and tailor to teach him how to coordinate his clothing and accessories. They explained the best cut of suit for his frame to achieve the look of class and elegance befitting a man of means. There was more to looking good than just spending ungodly amounts on designer labels. He learned quickly and enjoyed applying himself to his lessons. Claudette taught him not only about making love, but she applied a polish and a hint of class he never realized was missing until he met her.

Several weeks after their first afternoon meeting, Claudette decided it was time to move their relationship toward a more physical level. She’d grown quite fond of Trevor, and her desire for him increased with each visit. He was a handsome man, but it was more than appearance that drew her to him. She detected sensitivity in him, which would make him an outstanding lover.

He arrived late in the evening and was directed to the master suite. He knocked softly on her bedroom door. He’d been in this room before, but only once when she explained the nuances inherent in setting the right atmosphere for lovemaking. She told him this would not play a role so much in his business as it would in his personal life and for the woman he would eventually choose to share it with.

She called out softly for him to enter. He opened the door, and it took only a moment for his eyes to adjust to the muted lighting in the room. Illumination was provided by a few randomly placed, scented oil lamps. From the doorway he could see the glow from the fireplace in the adjoining sitting room. Claudette was not in the bedroom, so he moved toward the sitting room. The sitting room was a small enclosed area she often used for reading or meditating. It was sparsely decorated, with only two pale rose, upholstered, antique, fauteuil French high-back chairs. A mahogany Pembrook table was placed between both chairs. On this night, a silver tray had been placed upon it, which held two fine crystal champagne flutes along with a silver bowl of freshly cut bite-size melon wedges cradled in ice. White linen napkins were folded and laid beside the tray. A short distance away, a fine linen cloth was wrapped around the mouth of a bottle of 1996 Dom Perignon as it chilled in an ice bucket.

Claudette was not in this room either. Puzzled, he turned back to the bedroom and saw her standing on the balcony across the room, watching him. She was wearing a long silver peignoir set. The peignoir and gown underneath were both sheer, and together they gave only the mildest illusion that the wearer was clothed. Sheer nylon sleeves were trimmed with lace. A lacework pattern of roses adorned the sheer bodice of the empire-wasted gown. High-heeled slippers exposed her perfectly manicured, small toes. Her dark, thick hair had been freed from its usual braided style and was left long and flowing across her shoulders. She was regally stunning.

Trevor’s breath caught in his throat. In that brief moment, he glimpsed the young woman she had been a long time ago. He imagined her young, stylish, and gorgeous, with men fawning at her feet just to be graced with her favor. He smiled. “Good evening, gorgeous.”

“You handsome devil, what am I to do with you?” she responded girlishly as she came toward him and into the bedroom.

As she moved from the balcony to the more lighted bedroom, Trevor was confronted by the sheerness of her gown. He could clearly see the outline of her feminine curves, her full breasts and dark nipples. The split at the high waist of the gown flowed open in A-line cut and exposed the neatly trimmed dark hair covering her sweet spot. He looked away, embarrassed. He had known this moment would come, but he never thought beyond the idea. He never anticipated the reality of being here with her like this. She was his mentor, his friend. He revered this woman and had so much respect and admiration for her. Now she stood naked before him and expected him to please her in all the ways she needed.

Claudette anticipated his response. She had not reached such an advanced age without understanding the psyche of men. If he were not embarrassed, she would have miscalculated, and that was a rarity. Tonight he would learn how to pleasure a woman to the fullest extent, and the next time he would need no instruction. She moved to his side and placed her hand on his cheek; slowly she turned his face back to hers. She studied his eyes for a moment before she smiled gently and then began to speak softly.

“Trevor, you came to me initially for a reason. We have enjoyed each other’s company immensely for the past several weeks, but we both knew those conversations would lead us here.”

His admiration for her did battle with his desire to please her and made him uncertain for the first time in his adult life. He’d never been with a woman over the age of forty-five, and he guessed Claudette was close to seventy, although she did not look it. “What do you want me to do?” he asked.

She determinedly took his hand and led him to the sitting room. “Sit down,” she commanded, and he readily complied. “First, we must talk straight,” she told him seriously. “Tonight you will make love to me only as I instruct you to. You will not race ahead thinking you know more than me about my body. Est-ce que vous comprenez?”

“Oui,” he replied and smiled. She was like a little dictator tossing around orders. He tried to take his mind off the fact that she was naked and in his face.

“Second, in order to please a woman you must first understand all the secrets of her body. You must recognize every little nuance of her behavior. I will help you with all this, and I promise your heightened level of awareness will increase your pleasure as well. Êtes-vous disposé à écouter?”

“Oui, madame. I am listening,” he answered softly and began to unbutton his shirt.

“Not yet, mon amour. Third, most important, c’est très important. I am not your mother, your grandmother, your great aunt, or cousin. I am a woman, like every other woman, who wants and desires to faire l’amour avec un monsieur beau. It sounds so much nicer en français. Anyway, providing this type of sexual passion is a task you have chosen to perform. Correct?”

In spite of himself, Trevor could begin to feel a stirring in his loins. How long was a man expected to have a beautiful, naked woman two inches from his face and not react? Claudette was still a very beautiful woman. “Okay, okay. I got it,” he replied.

“Okay,” she replied, and, still standing in front of him, she untied the lace string at the bodice of her gown. “First, you must undress me slowly.”

Trevor began by removing the peignoir first. It was light and flimsy in his hands. He was methodical in his movements as he exposed one small slim shoulder and then the other. He rolled the sleeves down her arms and eased it passed her fingertips.

“Stop there,” she ordered. “Now, tell me what you see.”

“Huh?” he responded, not understanding the question.

She leaned over and whispered suggestively in his ear as her breasts brushed against his shoulder, “Tell me what you see. Talk to me.”

Comprehension dawned, and he paused for a moment and then began the process of removing her sheer gown. His hands were gentle as he slid the thin strap of the gown off her shoulder. He peered closely at her shoulder and said, “I see a tiny scar on the tip of your collarbone. I wonder how you got it?” He planted a soft kiss on the spot and continued his inspection. He brushed her hair behind her shoulder and slid his hand behind her head, cupping her earlobe between two fingers, and kissed the nape of her neck. “I see you’ve had your ears pierced,” he whispered and pulled the lobe of her ear into his mouth and nibbled on it gently.

Claudette breathed deeply and smiled. The muscles in the heart of her desire ached as they contracted in response to his touch. A familiar tingling sensation of anticipation filled her body. His touch was as light as a feather and teased her nerve endings as his hands continued their exploration.

With the palms of his hands he slid the gown down her arms until it fell to the floor, leaving her totally exposed and vulnerable to him. Tenderly he cupped both breasts with his hands and circled each nipple with his tongue.

“Don’t get distracted. Keep talking,” she urged as her knees grew weak and she knew she would not be able to support her own weight much longer.

“I cherish your breasts. And I want to…He lifted one breast to his mouth and closed his lips completely over the rigid peak and sucked.

“Oh, oh my!” Claudette exclaimed and couldn’t stop the tiny orgasm that raced through her body and caused her to buckle at the waist. “You cheeky bastard, you’re cheating. I told you about skipping ahead.”

Trevor laughed aloud, picked her up gently, and carried her into the bedroom. “You’re very petite, ma chère, light as a feather. Are you sure we should continue?” he murmured against the soft skin of her neck.

“Oui, keep talking,” she replied.

He laid her down in the center of the king-size bed and then began to unbutton his shirt again. He stopped when he remembered the rules. “May I?” he asked, indicating the shirt.

“Oui,” she agreed. She watched as he removed the shirt and undershirt as well. Trevor was an extraordinary specimen of manhood. His boyish good looks, broad shoulders, and muscular physique would have lesser women begging to climb into his bed. When he began to unbuckle his belt, she couldn’t stop the escalated palpitations of her heart. It had been so long since…She closed her eyes and tried to focus on the task at hand. Tonight was about teaching him what he needed to know; it wasn’t about her. She felt his breath on her face and the tip of his manhood rubbing against her belly. She opened her eyes to see him poised above her, staring intently. She also got a good look at what she was about to become intimately acquainted with, and a flurry of unrestrained French rushed off her tongue.

“Mon Dieu! Vous êtes si grand! Il est mon plaisir d’être avec vous!” she exclaimed and then breathed a deep, contented sigh.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yes, why?” she demanded.

“You’re breathing kind of heavy,” he replied, concerned.

“I’m fine, get back to work,” she scoffed and closed her eyes.

He smiled and resumed his exploration. He lay on his side and used his fingertips to explore the skin of her stomach. Her skin did not have the firmness and elasticity of a younger woman, but he was surprised by its smooth, satiny texture. “Your skin is soft. I’m not sure what I thought it would feel like, but it is like the velvet on the petal of a rose.” He laid his head on her ribcage and ran his hands along the length of her legs. “Your legs are strong, like a dancer’s legs would be. You must have danced when you were younger,” he mused as he slid his hand between her legs, slowly parting them. He moved between her legs for closer inspection. “The skin on the inside of your thighs reminds me of a newborn baby’s skin, protected and silky smooth.” He kissed the soft flesh of her inner thighs.

Emotion rushed to the surface as her mind and body did battle. Her mind begged for reason, and her body begged for satisfaction. She allowed him to roll her onto her stomach and continue his quest.

He rubbed his hands gently along the outline of her body and stopped at the rising mound at the top of her thighs. For a petite woman she had a nice round butt. He placed both palms on her surprisingly firm cheeks and massaged gently. Then he brushed aside her hair to whisper in her ear. “Your ass is still perfect,” he said and planted a kiss at the base of her spine.

He rolled onto his back and pulled her into the crook of his arm so she was once again on her back. He placed his hand on the flat of her stomach and then moved it slowly down until his fingers slipped into the fine, curly hairs shielding her desire. “May I?” he asked quietly.

“Yes, but you must listen carefully to my instructions. It is important to focus on each task along the quest. At the end of the quest is the reward, but meeting each task sets the stage for a greater, more joyous reward,” she explained quickly. Her body was on fire, and the ache was more than she could bear. But this part would be so important, he must get it right.

Trevor began to nibble on the delicate skin behind her ear. At the same time he slid his hand between her legs and cupped her treasure with his palm. His breath was warm in her ear as he whispered, “Here?”

“Oui. Now apply pressure here.” She guided his hand a little lower and pressed the heel of his palm directly on the hidden and highly sensitive passion button. “Massage here lightly, rotating your palm slightly. Let me feel its heat.” She gasped as she felt a rush of moistness between her thighs. “Now,” she started, caught her breath, and started again, “now slowly insert your finger…ah, ah, yes.” She struggled with rational thought as he expertly followed her directions. “Test the inner walls, ah, do you feel the passage will be easy, or is more lubrication necessary?” she asked breathlessly. “This must be your call, not hers,” she cried and bit her lip to stifle a deep groan from bursting forth. “You must know instincti…instin…ahh…know instinctively when she is ready to accept you without pain,” she gushed.

Trevor was dealing with his own growing ache while he followed her directions. Her instructions were driving him crazy, and he couldn’t wait to delve deep into his instructor. All thoughts of her advanced age were long gone. His rock-hard dick only recognized the fact that there was a hot, juicy pleasure depot nearby it needed to dip into.

“Trevor, you…must…understand…the difference…between pressure…and pain. Pressure is good; pain is not always.”

He decided she felt more than ready to accept him. His fingers were covered with her own natural lubricant. He rolled over and poised himself above her.

“Not yet, mon amour. Everything, you must learn everything.” She opened her legs wide and guided his hand to her aching spot. “This is my treasure. You must dive into the sea to find the pearl and reward me for sharing my treasure with you.”

He slipped his fingers back inside her to rewet them and then gently parted her flowery lips and exposed her pearl. He teased and nipped the tiny jewel with his tongue and lips alternately until she screamed for him to stop.

“Now, mon amour, now,” she whimpered, exhausted.

He needed no other urging as he pushed his throbbing reward deep inside the warmth of her treasure. Fireworks exploded in his head as her muscles contracted around his shaft. He remained still for a few moments to allow her to adjust and then began slowly stroking in and out of her treasure. He could feel her squeezing and releasing him as she matched her movements to his. She was demanding and insatiable. He slipped his hand under her back to raise her hips higher and then hesitated.

“I will not break, silly,” she admonished him. “If a woman cannot take what you give, she will let you know.”

Permission granted, he picked up the pace a bit and increased his tempo. He wasn’t certain how much longer he could hold off, and he wasn’t sure she’d had enough.

As if she were reading his mind, she responded, “Remember, it is not so important what you are feeling—it is critical what she is feeling.”

What!? His brain screamed as his body primed for an explosion. “How am I supposed to know?” he demanded.

“She…will…tell…you!” she shouted as a growl started at the base of her throat and forced its way out of her mouth in the form of an agonized scream.

Almost simultaneously, he felt a gush of hot fluid rush from her body and finally released his hold on a stream of his own. He groaned aloud as he collapsed on the bed beside her.

They lay there quietly for a few minutes before she raised herself up on her elbow and peered at him. “That was lesson one,” she advised and then laughed delightfully at the shocked expression on his face.

A short time later, Claudette retrieved luxurious terry-cloth robes for each of them, and they returned to the sitting room where Trevor stoked the fire with wood, and they toasted each other with champagne. As she rested comfortably in her chair, a serious expression appeared on her face. “There is a very important matter you must take very seriously, as it relates to sharing your body with women.”

He looked across at her quizzically and waited for her to continue. He valued her opinion, and he knew if she felt the issue was serious, he should pay attention.

“It is about protection. Tonight I am sure you were prepared for the activities of the evening, and you cleverly and very discreetly noticed I was prepared as well with the condoms placed conveniently within your reach on the nightstand. I compliment you on retrieving one without interrupting the flow of the act. However, you may feel a certain amount of trust in me; do not be so foolish as to place this much trust in other women, especially women of child-bearing age. You are a very handsome man, and there will be those women who wish to bear a miniature copy of you. You would not be the first man to fall prey to a ‘pinhole’ in a seemingly sealed condom. Always bring your own protection. The application of the condom should never disrupt the flow of the moment. For bold women, you may suggest they put it on for you; it will enhance the experience. For shy or inexperienced women, you should always handle this with finesse and sensitivity. Protect yourself and your future partners from any of those ugly diseases. They will appreciate you even more if your actions display concern for their well-being as well as their sexual satisfaction.”

Trevor understood the importance of what she advised him and appreciated that she cared enough to bring it up. It was a delicate subject, and a reminder of his own responsibility in the sexual act did not hurt.

“Thank you, ma chère. I will be mindful of my responsibility in protecting myself and my clients,” he said. He had been curious about the melon wedges on the tray and took this opportunity to change the subject. “Do the melons have a special meaning?” he asked.

“No, not at all. In fact we were supposed to have the melons and champagne before the lesson,” she replied simply.

“But if we are setting a romantic tone, why would you have melons and not strawberries? Or, better yet, chocolate-covered strawberries?” he persisted.

“Well, my dear, it may not apply so much in our situation. But if you ever want to really impress a lady friend, you will try this. Bear with me as I must demonstrate. Strawberries can be bitter sometimes; chocolate makes the teeth not so pretty and leaves a chocolate smell in the mouth. We have not had any melon wedges yet, so this demonstration will work quite nicely. Kiss me,” she instructed.

He rose from his chair and stood in front of her and gave her a brief kiss on the lips. He was surprised when she raised her eyebrows and looked disgusted.

“Mon Dieu! How do you expect to keep women calling you if you do not know how to kiss them avec passion?”

“Wait a minute, you didn’t ask for all that,” he countered and pulled her up from the chair and into his arms. He kissed her lightly at first and then coaxed her willing lips apart and slipped his tongue into her mouth. His tongue enticed hers in a brief but very sensual tête-à-tête.

As he began to pull away and end the kiss, she forgot this was a test and instinctively stood on tiptoes to follow his retreating tongue and extend the moment. Then she caught herself and realized how easily he’d swept her in and made her lose her head. He would be a dangerous lover, and women would pay dearly to be with him.

“Okay, much better,” she agreed and then continued. “Tell me, what do I taste like?”

“Huh? Uh, champagne? Honestly, not much of anything. Sorry,” he confessed.

“My point exactly. Now let us each have a melon wedge.” She offered him the bowl and ate a few of them herself. “What does your mouth feel like now?” she asked.

“Well, actually, it feels refreshed and clean,” he commented thoughtfully.

“Now kiss me again.”

He repeated his performance, but this time their mouths tasted sweet and alluring.

“Wow!” he said playfully. “You really taste good.”

She laughed and smiled warmly at him. His kiss had started those tingling sensations all over again. “Ready for lesson two?” she asked as she dropped her robe on the floor and sashayed naked back toward the bedroom.

“You’re just trying to kill me,” he protested weakly as he downed the last of the champagne and returned the glass to the table. He tossed his robe in the chair and then stretched and flexed his muscles. His body was already poised for the next challenge as he followed her lead.

Claudette enjoyed many young lovers over the years, but none after Trevor, who held a special place in her heart. She explained the rules of the service business: never give your true name, never be seen in public with a client, and never take a client for granted or make her feel cheapened by her need for his service. Women would have different needs and desires, which would drive them to call him, but they should never feel sullied by giving in to those desires.

Trevor spent a year as Claudette’s lover before she fell ill and her health no longer permitted the sexual escapades she so enjoyed. Up until his arrest, he still visited her once a month to check on her. He would sit by her chair in the library and plant feathery kisses on her wrists. She would lean back in the chair, enjoying the sensations and reliving the memories.

A loud scuffle in the corridor brought him sharply back to the present and his dismal surroundings. He lay down on the cold metal cot and again pondered how he ended up in Cook County jail.