AllFreeNovel
Share Us
What Helen thought of these instructions Monique could only imagine. On one hand, she was inviting Helen into private quarters, but on the other it was not a sexual invitation for as much as Monique wished it could be. But there was something that she wanted Helen to see, and she could only see it in intimate chambers.
They weren’t too far from the balcony. Just a few steps, and they were there, Monique unlocking the door that led to her private world.
Whatever Helen initially thought of this room, she did not let on. It wasn’t anything special. A large canopy bed, some antique dark wood furniture, and erotic art that Monique collected over the past few months.
“Everything you see in this room,” she said, pouring herself a glass of brandy and offering another to Helen, “was procured in a short amount of time. When I left Jacqueline, I had only the clothes I wore on my back. I don’t know what she did with myold things. Maybe she threw them away. Maybe she created a shrine in which she venerates my image and vows to steal me back from my new life. I don’t care, but every time I look at these things, I’m reminded that I once had everything and then had nothing.”
“It’s still impressive.”
“I suppose. Most women couldn’t leave with nothing and build something like this up in such a short amount of time, true. I’m not like most women. There are many different things about me that don’t hold for other women I’ve met. ‘Normal’ women.”
“Is there really such a thing?”
Helen stood by the door, declining the brandy.Don’t act like you don’t want into my space. She would have to be mad otherwise. “There is such a thing as what the public perceives as being normal. I am not it.”
“Oh, I’m not sure about that. I think a lot of women feel like you do, they just don’t know how to express it.”
“There’s expressing it, and then there’s living the lifestyle.”
“Is that what you want to do?”
“What? Live the lifestyle?”
“Naturally.”
“As you said. Naturally.”
Helen eventually took a glass of brandy, her fingers lingering on Monique’s.Keep finding excuses to touch me. I dare you.“You are right to be cautious. There are a lot of terrible people out there looking to take advantage of women searching for that kind of life. Unfortunately, as you prove.”
They stood in front of each other, Monique’s head tilted back so she could look up into Helen’s stoic face. “Are you a terrible person, Ms. Warner?” There was no whimsy in her voice. However, her guest answered would decide the next thing she said.
It took a while for Helen to answer. During that time, she sipped the brandy, murmured that it was a good maker, and stuck her hand in her deep sweater pocket as if searching for her wallet or phone. “I like to think I’m not terrible. But all women are a work in progress.”
Damn her again.Monique wanted to hear Helen say that she was awful, that she was the best woman in the whole world.Absolutes. That’s what she wanted. That way Monique could write her off as someone either too self-aware or too haughty to be trifled with. Monique drank her whole glass of brandy in one gulp, letting it burn its way down in hopes of washing the memories bubbling in her stomach. If they reached Monique’s brain, she was in real trouble.
Too late.
She didn’t know if it was the alcohol, but Monique dropped her empty glass and hid her face in her hands. The first sob to burst forth was powerful enough to shake her whole body, but the sound was worse: like an abandoned child wondering why she was all alone in the world.
What was wrong with her? What made her so easy to abuse? What made any woman, let alone the woman she gave hersoulto, decide to take her heart, her virtue, and her dreams and crush them with a vindictive stiletto heel? What made Jacqueline think she could hit her, spit on her, and force her to do things that went beyond the line of harmless sexual humiliation? Monique gave her several years of squandered life. In return, she gave Monique a prison and a broken spirit.
Helen’s arms wrapped around her, a much-welcomed veil of protection from the world Monique was too exposed to.I don’t need this…She didn’t need these welling feelings overflowing in her body, telling her to cling to Helen, to feel the strength of her arms, her chest, and her shoulders enshrouding her. Helen wasso tall that Monique easily nestled into her embrace, hoping that Helen would hold her there in their small world forever.
She wanted a lot of things. Like the pat on her back, the nose in her hair, and the kind words that said she was worth more than any woman must have shown her so far.I’m so weak.As if she read her mind, Helen said, “You’re one of the strongest women I’ve ever met. Who can come back from something like that and do as much as you have? Women crumble from less.”
No matter how much Monique wanted to tell her that it was an absurd thing to say, the words still sank into her brain, and she thought of the very few women in her life she ever saw cry. None of them had been her lovers. She wasn’t even sure Jacqueline was capable of producing tears – besides tears of laughter at someone’s expense. “Why am I such a mess?”
Helen tipped up Monique’s chin and gazed into her tear-stained face. There should have been something comforting in the way she looked at her, but all Monique could think was that this woman had seen her cry. That was her second most vulnerable moment.
The first was…
Her heart exploded into a burst of sparks when Helen kissed her, Monique’s brain screaming no while the rest of her resisted reason and gave in to her strongest desires.
She hadn’t kissed a woman who wasn’t Jacqueline in so long that Monique forgot women all did it differently. Helen, in particular, kissed with the entirety of her lips, not favoring one side or the other as she devoured the woman in her arms, each kiss stronger, more intoxicating than the last. Monique clung to her, arms stretching to bring her down closer, body slipping toward the sofa behind her with Helen following.
How liberating it was to give herself away, freely and without reserve. The heavy breaths hitting her skin were laced in an aphrodisiac that made Monique’s legs spread around Helen’ships, and her head fall back against the arm of the couch. Her chest heaved toward Helen’s mouth, which descended to her bodice, ripping apart the buttons of Monique’s dress and kissing both mounds of her breasts. Every time Helen thrust against her thighs, Monique whimpered, her hesitations unraveling the longer Helen Warner showered her with comfort.
Isn’t this what she expected when she invited Helen into her room? A part of her certainly hoped that their flirtations would lead to this. To deny that she wanted Helen was a grievous mistake. Monique knew herself too well to know that she could fool her heart like that.I won’t call it love.She wasn’t looking for love… but she needed passion. She needed to know that there were women out there still willing to take her how they pleased, their bodies using hers while still thinking of nothing but the woman they held in their arms and surged against with every famished movement. Monique begged for Helen to have her, to rip away the one thing separating them and let them know one another. Carnal knowledge was the next best thing to enlightenment.
