Page 11 of XX Love Affair
No, Delia probably shouldn’t think in that pining way. She wasn’t looking for a girlfriend. Or a sugar baby, for that matter. Knowing what night Helena was usually here so they could hook up was too bothersome. Best to not think of her again after tonight.
Delia parted from that kiss on a high note. She did not, however, look back as she exited the room.
What Helena did with the rest of her night was of no consequence to Delia. Quite frankly, it wasn’t any of her business.
Chapter 4
Helena ripped open the curtains of her mid-rise hotel room to see nothing but the blank concrete of the building next door. Whatever. She wasn’t in this room for a view. She was here because of its central location and fair price for decent accommodation. Anytime she could score a king room in a happening city was priceless.
She wanted some natural light to decide her outfit for the evening. It may have been Monday, but she was meeting someone for drinks at a chic cocktail bar after they got off work. If Helena played her cards right, she’d score free food, drinks, and sufficient conversation.
For once, I hope I come back alone. It had been a busy weekend. Her body knew when it was time to rest. Her brain? Not so much.
The woman from the night before had put her through her paces. What was her name? Something like… Delilah. No. Delia. That was it. Helena didn’t remember Delia’s last name if she ever heard it, but it didn’t matter. She had gotten what she was after.
Sore thighs.
Helena was content to call Delia the last hookup for a few days. Already, she had blocked some of her online matches and canceled on someone who wanted her to take the train into Boston for what would undoubtedly be a mediocre lay. Why start the week on such a dour note? Helena wasn’t opposed to seconds with the right person, but she knew when someone wasn’t worth her time again. Like her mother used to say, “If you’re going to sleep with someone, make sure it’s worth the risk.”
The instructions had remained unclear. Helena threw too much caution to the wind.
What I need is money. She was keen on staying in New England for a while. Already, she found a short-term room rental on an online marketplace. She had enough money to pay for the lease up front, but she’d need to get at least a part-time job to stay well fed. As appealing as finding a sugar daddy or mama was, Helena wasn’t opposed to the kind of gainful employment she had to pay real taxes on. It might be good for her CV. Proof she didn’t piss away her gap year to follow her pussy to plentiful pastures.
Right when she considered that her phone buzzed with a text from her mother. “Checking in. I hope you’re okay.”
Helena stared at her dark phone screen. Her mother texted her every week. Not always on the same day, but often enough that Helena couldn’t decide if it was annoying or endearing. Helena stayed in contact enough to keep her parents off her ass, but she knew her mother wanted more information about where she was now and what she was up to. Suppose it’s natural… Except theirs had never been a lovey-dovey family. Both of Helena’s parents were in the military, shuffled from one base to the next until they both retired and settled in the Seattle area. Then things happened… They moved to Olympia, where Helena finally attended the same school for more than two years. Long enough to graduate with people she recognized.
Was it any surprise she flitted from place to place once she had her freedom? She had taken off between the last day of finals and graduation, choosing not to walk and have her parents pick up her diploma. Helena had no attachment to that place. Why would she?
Her will was in the present. The future. What she did now might influence the rest of her life. Why not go to LA, Chicago, New England? She had been to New York a few times, but it wasn’t her style. She preferred more laidback cities that vaguely reminded her of the Pacific Northwest but with fewer dogs and patchouli oil. The only thing she missed was the natural views, but big cities gave her nineteen-year-old brain something to cling to. Cities were potential. Cities were experiences.
Cities were hot women like Delia, who responded to her aggressive seduction with an amused grin and a forearm strong enough to make Helena see stars when she orgasmed.
Too bad I probably won’t see her again. Delia was the right mix of aloof and attentive. She was into Helena, but not invested. Helena liked that. She desired her independence, be it on the streets or in the club. Even with Irene and Josh, Helena didn’t feel like she owed them anything beyond a promise to not stray without their permission. They kept her plenty satisfied, anyway. Or at least until Irene’s outbursts became too much to deal with.
But Helena missed the thrill of being with a young and successful couple. The big house in San Bernardino County. The frequent trips to Hawaii, the Caribbean, and Europe. Decadent food and more decadent nights in bed. Sometimes she did all of that with both of them, but often, she was with one or the other. Usually, Irene. She was the one Helena had met first, after all. Irene was the one who seduced her. Irene had kept her in the whirlpool of carnal elegies and materialistic dirges.
Now, that was out of Helena’s system. She could cross be the mutual girlfriend of a hot married couple off her bucket list. She could also cross travel to France and Italy off since she had been to both twice in the six months she spent with Irene. Whether they were being dirty in a Honolulu hot tub or making a ruckus in a Milanese penthouse, Helena was always on call. Ready. Willing.
Stupid as fuck.
Well, that was behind her. All her parents knew was that she was “staying with friends in Southern California” and well taken care of. The latest update she told her mom was that she was heading out to New England after a “falling out.” Helena liked the idea of settling down and finding a new crowd of people to play with. Every high-end sex club in North America was looking for unicorns like her. Her only regret was that she had to use a fake ID to get into them because a real one meant the chance to sign up for the deviant events that required single women on hand for the eager crowds. Helena wasn’t embarrassed that such things were on her bucket list. The ever-expanding bucket list that had many, many debaucherous deeds crossed off already.
She unearthed it now, pulling both the notepad and a pen out of her crossbody bag.
Two things on page three were crossed off before she added something new on page five. “Get auctioned off to the highest bidder.”
Helena had seen it advertised in the biggest secret club in New York City. Their annual event was hush-hush to the mainstream media and the pedestrians clomping up and down the sidewalk outside of the club’s underground entrance, but she knew. Irene had talked about it at length, much like she opined about The Summit and how she couldn’t wait to take Helena. We were supposed to go this year. Oh, well. The auction was legendary. Young women with all sorts of backgrounds, from professional sex workers to desperate virgins, auctioned themselves to wealthy patrons for a month. Most made a hundred thousand dollars. Some made a million.
How hot is that?
Helena tossed her notepad back into her bag and leaned across her hotel bed. Her phone buzzed again, this time alerting her that it was supposed to rain that evening. She’d do well to wear her coat with the hood. The one Irene had bought her when they were caught in a Parisian rainstorm last fall.
She didn’t miss the woman – or her husband, for that matter. Not them as people. What Helena missed were the thrills, both in and out of the bedroom.
Get it out of your system, girl. In August, it’s back to Washington with you.
But first… some more of that delicious independence, out here in New England. Helena was at the perfect intersection of Boston, Providence, and Hartford. One of those cities she had never heard of before she ended up in a state few of her high school classmates could remember when reciting capitals. The river cutting through this otherwise boring city provided the perfect opportunity for businesses to develop and flourish. The universities weren’t anything to write home about, and the tourism was nonexistent, but it was perfect for headhunting a new rich boy or girlfriend. Helena didn’t need someone funding her lifestyle, but it might be nice…