Odalisque

Kai shifted and shrugged. “I can assure you Constance is going to have my cock in her face and in her holes plenty of the time she’s with me. Constance-ly, if you know what I mean.” Kai thought he was hilarious. Bastien didn’t crack a smile.

Kai tried again. “I’ve grown quite cynical in these matters. Honestly, it’s a relief to me to know what my financial loss will be at the outset, and to know that the woman in question is not going to pretend to love me. No playacting. Everything on the table.”

Bastien studied him. “I sense some bitterness in your words. Please tell me you are not a hater of women.”

“Only some women. Well, one. My ex-wife to be exact.” Kai gave Bastien a rueful smile. “You know the age-old story. Conniving bitch pretends to love very rich man. Keeps up her side of the act just long enough to fulfill the terms of the prenuptial agreement. Waltzes off with millions of his dollars into the arms of her new lover.”

“I’m sorry to hear you were victimized in that way.”

Victimized. The word startled Kai. No one had ever said it to his face, that he was a victim, although that was exactly what he’d felt while it was going down. “I’ll try very hard not to let my bitterness over my ex-wife color my interactions with Constance. I really do like her very much. I can’t claim to be the best judge when it comes to women’s character, but she doesn’t seem to me like the scheming, soul-crushing type.”

“No. Odalisques don’t scheme or crush souls. There’s no need. The simple beauty of the whole thing is that there need be no emotional manipulation. No power plays. I think Constance may be exactly what you need at this point in your life. I hope you will find great fulfillment in your ownership of her.”

Kai thought about the month to come, about all the things he had to get ready. About how eager he was to have her at his beck and call, constantly available and willing. “I very much hope so too.”

For so long, Kai had been in a haze, choking on distrust, loneliness and betrayal. Now he felt like he could breathe again. Constance would be his much needed breath of fresh air.

Just one more month.

Chapter Six: Finally Here

Kai was getting nothing done. He didn’t know why he was even trying to work from home on this day of all days. He clicked off the Chandler Systems website and over to the airline site to check the flight times for the twentieth time. Stupid, since he knew her plane had landed about an hour before, and that his driver had long since been dispatched to pick her up. She was here. On her way.

He wandered from his office out to the living room and up the staircase to the patio and pool. Taut white awnings stretched above him in geometric opulence. He lived high up in the Malibu hills, next to movie stars and billionaires, with all the security and privacy anyone could want. The crystalline infinity pool could only be reached via the second floor, and dropped off the hillside. You could swim right up to the edge and look down over the cliff, watch the water trickle over and disappear. It was an illusion of course, like so many things about him. Illusion of success. Illusion of having his shit together. God, when was the last time he’d taken a swim?

He sat in one of the chairs under the shade of the awnings. His house was like a mausoleum. He’d sold the last house, the one he’d shared with Veronica, and bought this one, which suited his mood at the time. Contemporary lines, sharp corners, hard and severe. Everything neutral. He’d never felt compelled to change it--until he’d gone shopping for Constance the week he got back from France.

Her room at the Maison hadn’t been particularly colorful or overly decorated. In fact it had been decorated very much like his house, in neutral and understated tones. But he’d wanted color. Garish floral cushions tossed on a bright crimson sofa. A mahogany canopy bed with deep vermilion sheers shot through with gold threads, sheers he’d imported from India. He hadn’t consulted any interior decorators, any outside stylists. He’d done it on his own and found his tastes stuck somewhere back in the wonder of his great-grandmother’s squat, odoriferous home on the outskirts of Mumbai, the home he’d only visited once during his childhood. He couldn’t imagine why he wanted that for her, but he did.

Then he’d stopped at an antique shop and picked out an armoire and dresser inlaid with tile in a kaleidoscope of bright colors. The shop clerk had run a finger over the uneven surface and whistled. “Wow. This is loud.”

And then Kai had understood. He was furnishing her room loudly. It was the interior decorating equivalent of yelling at someone who couldn’t hear. Had he really meant it that way? He’d recalled the addendum to her odalisque contract, protecting her from blindfolding. Constance hears with her eyes. Would she take one look at her surroundings and get a headache?

When she arrived, he would ask her whether she liked it or not. He practiced the signs with half-conscious nervousness. Do. You. Like. This. Room? The sign for “room” was simple, his hands delineating a squarish space. A lot of the sign language was obvious. He’d worked at it every day until he got conversational, and fingerspelled until he got fast and smooth with the letters. The fingerspelling was the hardest thing by far. His teacher had gripped his wrist so he didn’t bounce his hand while he tried to spell in his mind and translate the letters into signs. He was a pretty smart person usually, but language had never been his strong suit.

Fortunately, being able to make the signs wasn’t important. Constance could read lips. What would be important would be decoding her signs. He hoped he didn’t end up looking like a complete ass.

Kai went back into the house and drifted to her bedroom. Her odella, in odalisque vocabulary. He’d practiced that too, all things odalisque, embracing the silliness and perversity of it. He’d studied the full body of the code lying in bed with his cock in his hand. It was certainly arousing reading. He couldn’t wait to fuck his beautiful sex slave, to lie her right down on the cushions and bury himself inside her...

But he hadn’t told anyone she was coming. Not Mason, not Jessamine, not any of the people he worked with. Not even his sister, who made it her business to know everything about him, no matter how personal it was. When he’d met her for lunch downtown, Satya had picked up on his mounting anxiety over Constance’s arrival. He’d explained it away as work problems. To his co-workers he explained away his anxiety as sister problems. It all worked out. He figured he would tell everyone later that Constance was his girlfriend. Maybe, eventually, he’d tell a few trusted friends the truth, but not right away.

In the beginning, he wanted her all to himself.

It was ten after four already. Where was she? Kai was about to call his driver when he saw the black sedan pull around the front. He walked out, and realized he was actually holding his breath. He let it out in a long slow gust and drew in air again. The door opened and a middle-aged woman got out. Close cropped dark hair, a smart business suit. For a moment he thought they’d sent the wrong odalisque, and then he realized this must be the overmistress.

The older woman turned, leaned down and gestured, and then Constance stepped out of the car. She was also dressed in sedate black business attire. She looked remarkably put together for someone who’d just gotten off a transatlantic flight. Her glossy dark curls fell forward over her shoulder. She flipped them back and turned to him, and broke out in a shimmering smile.

She wanted to be here. It was written all over her face. He’d bought her and she was here, clearly happy, clearly excited. He’d planned to greet her in sign language and surprise her. Hello. Welcome. It seemed stupid now, not enough. Kai strode to her instead, took her hand and drew her close. She melted against him. He was vaguely aware of the overmistress standing beside them, but not aware enough to care. He kissed Constance’s soft lips, and she parted them and responded in kind. She was so warm and real in his arms. So present.

He drew away from her and drank in her pleased expression. He squared his shoulders, raised his hands and signed, “You’re finally here.”

She looked taken aback for a m

oment, so he thought he’d signed the wrong thing. She raised her own hands and formed slow words. “You learned to sign?”

He smiled sheepishly. “I’m going to try. I’m a beginner. Be patient with me.”

She was blinking now, her fingers against her lips. He watched her, not knowing what to do. The overmistress tapped her shoulder, and when Constance was looking at her, signed “Let’s go inside.”

Kai turned, leading them to the door. “Of course. Let’s go inside.” Look at her when you talk. He turned back and said it again. “Come inside. Your room’s all ready. I hope you like it. And I am so, so happy you’re here.”

*** *** ***

Constance followed him, staring at his broad back, his impeccably tailored clothing...or maybe it was his physique that made the clothes fit so well. So Kai had learned to sign for her. It touched her deeply--and put her on guard. He would be so easy to fall for.

And that wasn’t in the plan.

He led her through his house, past a gleaming grand piano, past a sunken sitting room furnished in modern lines. A wide hallway stretched in two directions, with numerous doors. He ushered her and Ms. Dresden up a carpeted, open stairwell to the second floor. Her suite of rooms was on the right. He opened the door.

“I’ll give you the full tour, of course, but this is where you’ll stay. If you hate it--”