Heaven’s Gate
43 Seduction
I wasn’t sure about the way I was dressed. Was I dressed to be seduced? Well, yeah. I guess I was. Or for a Renaissance Festival. The shirt was open at the collar and down several inches. It was a kind of blousy thing like a pirate’s shirt that laced up the front. I wore a loose-fitting vest over the top. The slacks were trim, not quite tight. Leonard had put the whole outfit together without buttons or zippers. The front of it had a rectangular panel that had Velcro closures and could be literally torn open. Leonard had made sure that I had loafers that looked good and that I wore them without socks. My red house belt was tied around my waist outside the shirt.
Liz had topped the whole thing off with a henna tattoo on my chest. Yes, it was a rose, but not quite like Nikki’s. It bloomed out of a heart that was on fire. She’d found a stencil at a head shop in Nashville. And it wasn’t visible with my shirt and vest on unless I bent over or shifted in such a way that the shirt gapped that direction. She called it tantalizing. Each of my cónyuge examined the whole outfit and checked to make sure I wasn’t wearing underwear. That had predictable results, especially when each of them kissed me passionately before I left the house. I had to shift things around just to walk down the driveway. I guessed I was ready for whatever Nikki had in mind.
In April, Nikki had purchased five wooded acres from Mr. Smith across the road from the ranch. As soon as it closed, Ron was out there putting in a foundation. Rhiannon had designed the Writer’s Cottage and Doug and Carl took charge of building it. Nikki moved in near the end of June, but none of us had been invited to see her new place.
I guess ‘moved in’ was kind of a strong phrase. She’d furnished it and had spent a few nights there. Mostly, she was still with us at night in the big bedroom until this week. I guess I was the first to be privileged to look at it. Nikki felt she needed more isolation to be able to write effectively and even though she didn’t want to be separated from the rest of us, she needed a private space. Her first two books had earned back her advance and she was actually receiving a royalty check every three months. Added to the healthy salary she was drawing as head writer for Hearthstone Entertainment, she was doing pretty well.
Walking up the flagstone path to her door was like entering an enchanted forest. It was funny. As soon as Jessica had decided to build her dream home, we’d had all kinds of planning discussions so it wouldn’t look so big as to be out of place in the village. Her place was big enough that the caretaker’s cottage where the Garcia family lived was larger than Dinita’s house across the street. Lamar and Sarah had built a house that could absorb Lionel and his family as guests without strain. The Woods, the Cortaleses, and the Clintons had all built houses big enough to hold a second family for their children. But Nikki had chosen an actual cottage on a huge piece of wild property.
I knocked on the door.
The vision that opened the door was incredible.
Nikki is a couple of inches taller than me. Her blonde curly hair fell softly to her shoulders. Bare shoulders. I have to admit that with children, I have seen nearly all the old Disney movies. Wouldn’t you know that Rose had the entire collection of fairy tales in a video tape library and she took great delight in having the whole family gather to watch one. Well, Sleeping Beauty wears a pretty daring dress for a Disney princess. It is completely off both shoulders with a flare that puffs out around her upper arms and long sleeves. And a plunging neckline. Perhaps not as plunging as Nikki’s neckline. It was open enough that I could clearly see her rose tattoo. And the skirt may have been long, but it was tucked up with the hem in the waistline exposing her right leg up to her thigh. She was barefoot.
“Mr. Frost, we are so pleased you could be with us this evening,” she said. A royal we? Of course, the invitation did come from all three of her. “We have a shoeless household, if you wouldn’t mind.” There was a mat to the left of the door and I slipped out of my shoes, thankful Leonard had made me wear loafers.
“Miss Duval, Mademoiselle d’Chevalier, and Miss Hart, I thank you for your kind invitation. What a lovely cottage you have,” I said. Nikki giggled.
“Please let me show you my home, sir,” she said. Well, I think I could see most of it. “This is the public area. I’m afraid it is much too hot to have a fire in the fireplace tonight. But it is a cozy little retreat for as many… as there are here now,” she giggled again. “As you can see, the table on this side of the room is a comfortable dining spot for us and for our guest. The kitchen is modest, but I am not much of a cook. Should you need it, the salle de bain is at the end behind the kitchen. It is a bit more luxurious than you might expect, but a girl has to pamper herself where it counts. Here, we enter the private quarters. My study.”
“Wow! If I may say, I understand fully how you would want a space like this for your work,” I said. Damn! What a gorgeous room! The walls were lined with bookshelves. I had no idea Nikki had so many books. She really did need this space. She had a large desk. I knew she had a computer somewhere, but in the center of the desk was a nice electric typewriter. She also had a comfy chair positioned in a little bay window overlooking the wildness of her back yard.
“You are too kind. Of course, you may wonder about my sleeping arrangements. My personal space is… up there,” she said pointing to the staircase next to the bathroom that I’d scarcely noticed. “And that’s my humble abode. All tidily compressed into nine hundred square feet. Please have a seat by the fireplace and let me bring you a cocktail.”
I sat in the loveseat where she directed me and couldn’t quite see into the kitchen where she clinked some glasses together and I heard her pouring something. She came out with two champagne flutes, but I could tell just by looking that it wasn’t just champagne. There was a maraschino cherry floating in it. She perched on the edge of the loveseat next to me and turned to raise her glass. We touched the edges of the flutes together gently.
“Here is to a lovely evening and dedication of my new home,” she whispered. We each took a sip. Mmm.
“This is great,” I said. “May I ask what is in it?”
“Champagne, of course, brandy, bitters, and sugar,” she said. “I actually had to buy a bartender’s guide in order to find an appropriate celebratory cocktail. And don’t worry your pretty little head. I made myself a non-alcoholic version. It’s only you I want vulnerable to our attentions.” I laughed, but I think she was serious. She hopped up and ran to the kitchen, returning a moment later with a cheese and fruit tray. She set it next to her, out of my reach. She plucked a slice of kiwi off the tray and held it to my lips. I accepted it. “This cocktail goes especially well with fruit.” It did, indeed, and we sat chatting as she fed me bits of fruit and cheese.
“I’ve missed you, Nicolette,” I said.
“Nonsense. You’ve had your Marine and basketball buddies and all those little nymphs wanting to get pregnant,” Nikki laughed. “But I’ve missed you.”
Our conversation became more relaxed as we continued to eat. She refreshed our drinks and moved us to the dining table where she served a huge salade niçoise. Traveling around had given me a palate for different and unique foods, so the very rare tuna didn’t bother me. The dressing was awesome. The vegetables and potatoes had come from the ranch garden. And in all, it was an exciting and stimulating meal, made more so by the fact that I didn’t have any silverware.
“Miss Duval, I seem to be missing any implements for eating this lovely salad,” I said.
“I am so sorry, Mr. Frost. I’ve only managed to acquire one set so far. Please allow me to assist you.” Nikki positioned herself to my right and alternated feeding bites to me and to herself. She poured tea and even held my cup for me. I was at a bit of a loss as to what to do with my hands while she was feeding me. She resolved that by placing my hand on her bare thigh. While we chatted and ate, she continually made little touches along my neck and cheek. She dabbed at the corner of my mouth with a napkin and when she was satisfied it was clean, leaned over to kiss the same corner. The act of leaning toward me fully exposed her rose tattoo and the breast where it resided.
“This is a fantastic meal,” I said. “Which of you cooked?”
“Oh, that would be the cute little girl who does that cooking show,” Nikki laughed. “I had it catered. Why do you think I’m usually at the big house for dinner?”
“I thought it had to do with wanting to see your cónyuge and hearthmates.”
“It is. That is why I have resolved not to learn to cook.”
“I thought your new book was a cookbook.”
“Come. Céleste will read from the new book.” Nikki took my hand and led me once more to the loveseat. “This is actually a pre-release review copy,” Nikki said, retrieving the book. The cover looked kind of comical with a goth girl in an apron with a saucepan in her hand and a quizzical expression on her face. “I’ll be on a book tour for the release in September. I’m even being interviewed on television. That great popular show Chick Chat. Maybe I’ll get invited on XX/XY, too.”
“I can almost guarantee it.” I said.
“Now listen as Céleste reads,” she said. I swear her voice changed. There was just a slight French accent. The voice was gentle and lilting. She opened the book to a marked page.
Brian looked into my eyes as we sat by the fire, flames reflected in their depths. ‘Can he read my thoughts?’ I wondered. If he could… if he could see into the darkest corners of my soul, he would find the truth. I was in love. The very thought made my breath catch. I could feel my nipples harden against the thin fabric of the blouse I wore. I prayed that my pheromones had reached his nose and he would know the intensity of my desire for him.
I reached a tentative hand toward him, my finger tracing his collarbone where it disappeared beneath his carelessly open shirt. I knew he would never make the first move. For all the fire in his voice and the passion of his speeches, he was essentially a shy man. He would never initiate intimacy, but once he was involved he would take passion to new heights. The smoldering fire would burst into a flame that might consume all around us.
I felt his pulse quicken beneath my fingertips as I drew them down the center of his chest and closed the distance between our lips, never letting our eye contact waver. The first touch of lip to lip set my desires aflame. I felt the warmth of womanhood flood from my core and the petals of my sex unfurl, preparing me for his invasion. And I would welcome him like a liberating army, setting free my passions and banishing my virginity forever.
Once our lips parted, his soft moan and the touch of his tongue told me all I needed to know about his love for me. I was not to go forever through this world isolated and alone, but would have that companion that my heart so desired. I freely gave him myself and took all of him into my center. How we had lost our clothing was a mystery to me, as I didn’t remember shedding the dark weeds of my rebellion. His silks joined my rough clothes on the floor and I pressed my naked bosom against his muscular chest.
And then his rapier parted my willing sheath and slid home. Oh! The ecstasy of love. The fulfillment of my life of agony. The climax of my career of anarchy.
“Céleste, I love you,” he whispered in my ear, the bumps rising on my arms as I accepted this revelation.
I was whole.
We sat in silence for a moment. Nikki had not been idle as she read. My belt was gone. My shirt fully unlaced and open. The front panel of my trousers loosed and her right hand on my rampant cock. Her own blouse had fallen beneath her breasts and I caressed them and lightly pinched her nipples, eliciting a gasp from her lips as she closed the book.
“Nicolette… Céleste, I thought your book was a young adult adventure story,” I said when her lips gave me a chance to breathe.
“Oh, Céleste’s novel is,” she said. She pulled a loose sheet of paper out of the book. “This was a little something special that Nat wrote just for tonight.” She stood and offered me her hand. “Come, my darling. There is still one room in the cottage you have not seen.”
I had been truly and wonderfully seduced.
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