If I vocalized all that I’m thinking and feeling, this man would run for the hills.
So one word is what I say, and it’s the one word he wants to hear.
Never has that one little word carried so much weight or seemed so damned important.12
AARONI knew I could change her mind. Women are no different from business deals. I can smell an opportunity, and I always know when someone can be broken. Nicole might have put on a show of resistance, but it didn't take much to get her to give in to what she really wanted.
The ride to my penthouse is fast, mainly because I'm otherwise engaged with Nicole. Paul, my driver, was instructed to take me home first, so we're already en route before Nicole agrees. We could just as easily have gone to her hotel, but my place is less risky, and I feel like having her on my home ground. Seeing her naked in my bed is too tempting a proposition to miss out on.
When we pull into the underground parking garage, and the car dims inside, Nicole pulls away from our frantic kissing to gaze out of the window.
"Where are we?" she asks, her eyes heavy-lidded, her lips swollen and wet and hair deliciously mussed. I haven't even done anything to her yet, and she's already disheveled and confused.
"My place." I smile, and she looks out of the window again.
"It's kind of dreary. Don't you get cold with all this concrete?"
"Very funny," I say, smacking her lightly on the hip. "Now get off me before Paul opens the door and sees what we've been doing."
Nicole rolls herself until she's sitting next to me and proceeds to smooth her clothes and her hair. It's still very obvious what she's been up to despite her efforts, but Paul won't show any reaction. He's very professional.
When the car comes to a standstill, I grab Nicole's bags and move to exit first, holding my hand out for hers. I call thanks over my shoulder to Paul and lead Nicole to where the elevators rise from the dark underground garage to my large slice of penthouse heaven.
I have property in many places, but this apartment is the only place I really feel at home. The decorator I chose worked closely with me to plan a space that's sophisticated and on-trend but with elements of my own personal taste. As we rise in the elevator, Nicole watches the numbers light up, and I wonder what she's expecting. I want her to like my place. I want her to be impressed.
I watch her closely as we walk into the open-plan space that I'm so used to. I'm expecting her to be drawn to look at the amazing chandeliers hanging from the thirty-foot ceiling, the beautiful curved staircase, my ultra-modern kitchen, but instead, she heads straight to the windows, taking in the panoramic skyline view.
"It's beautiful," she says. "Amazing to have this to look at every day." I stay silent, watching as she takes her time gazing at the view. "Is this where you live most of the time?" she asks, and I nod. "It looks like you…like I would have expected it to look."
I smile at that because it isn't a comment about the luxury of the place or the size, but about the way its style is in line with how she perceives me.
She strolls toward a wall to the side of the seating area where I've displayed a small collection of art that I love. There's more in the upstairs rooms, particularly my study and bedroom, but it's quite sparse in this main area so as not to detract from the views.
"Wow," she says, looking them over. "These are amazing."
"I love icons. My grandmother was Russian, and she always had reproductions hanging in her home. It's nice to be able to buy originals. They remind me of her."
"So, these aren't copies?" Her voice is full of awe, and it makes something inside me bubble with warmth.
"They're originals. All around six hundred years old, although some are older. Most are Greek but some Russian. I bought rare scenes. It makes them more expensive. Most have elements of gold-leaf too."
Nicole glances at me as though she's searching for something, then focuses back in on the icons. "So, is that what you like? The most expensive things?"
I cross my arms over my chest.
"No, I like rare beauty."
Her eyes flick to mine, cautious but warm. It amuses me that she's trying to get to know me with these roundabout questions, and it impresses me. There's certainly more to Nicole than I would ever have expected.
Her hair shines in the sunlight that streams through the windows, hanging to where her lower spine arches. It's just how I like a woman's hair to be. Natural color, healthy, long enough to grab hold of when I'm fucking them, and so they can cover their breasts with it when they're naked. There's nothing like getting a glimpse of a little pink nipple or the white curve of soft flesh through the modest cover of long, sleek hair.